July 4, 2010 Sermon

Standing in the River of Love     (II Kings 5 [selected verses]; Luke 10:1-9)

Rev. Sally Harris

In June a book entitled The Shallows: What the Internet Is Doing to Our Brains was published. The author, Nicolas Carr, is concerned about the preservation of the human capacity for contemplation and wisdom, in an age of instantly available Google searches. Building on the insights of thinkers from Plato to McLuhan, Carr makes a convincing case that every information technology carries an intellectual ethic — a set of assumptions about the nature of knowledge and intelligence. He explains how the printed book served to focus our attention, promoting deep and creative thought. In stark contrast, the Internet encourages the rapid, distracted sampling of small bits of information from many sources. Its ethic is the ethic of the industrialist, an ethic of speed and efficiency, of optimized production and consumption — and now the Internet, the Net is remaking us in its own image. We are becoming ever more adept at scanning and skimming, but what we are losing is our capacity for concentration, contemplation, discernment and reflection. Carr’s ultimate question is: As we enjoy the Net’s bounties, are we sacrificing our ability to read and think deeply? In the quiet spaces opened up by the sustained, undistracted reading of a book, or by any other act of contemplation, for that matter, we make our own associations, draw our own inferences and analogies, foster our own ideas. As Maryanne Wolf, Director of the Center for Reading and Language Research at Tufts University argues: Deep reading is indistinguishable from deep thinking. If we lose those quiet spaces, or fill them up with “content,” we may very well be sacrificing something important not only in our selves but in our culture. We are in danger of becoming ‘pancake people’—spread wide and thin as we connect with that vast network of information accessed by the mere touch of a button. We may be consigning the future and ourselves to intellectual, spiritual and reflective shallows – standing knee deep in the river dying of thirst. The danger of shallow living, of course is not new. Perhaps that is why worship and reflecting on sacred texts have been the spiritual practice of every religion for eons. I wonder if we could just step back in time would the flat text of our readings become enlivened within us? For this we pray:

        Holy One our souls long for you.
        We come thirsting for Your Living Word.
        Open our eyes that we might recognize your river of life flowing in us,
        surrounding us and keeping us afloat. Amen

Dear Friends of the Third Millennium,
I write to you as one visiting from a time before millenniums were named, a time of ancient rivers and rituals, a time when spiritual forces were still recognized - a time of antiquity. You might recognize me in the story of Naaman’s healing for I am the unnamed slave girl, captured from the land of Israel, serving the mistress of Naaman’s household. Yes, I was the one who suggested that Naaman seek out the healing power of YHWH through the prophet Elisha. I was not new to the healing arts of our ancient faith. Long before you Christians established the ritual of baptism we understood the power of flowing water, in a river or fountain or in the movement of the tides. Our people understood that the ancient rituals of bathing and cleansing united one with the spiritual forces of the ages in a history-long struggle to overcome darkness with the light of the Great Spirit – the same one who lingered over the waters of chaos at the beginning of time.

The lessons of my ancestors stayed with me in this foreign land. In some sense the lessons seemed stronger, bolder perhaps because they stood in such stark contrast to the shallow living that I experienced around me. And yet oh my soul longed for the deep waters of my faith community and many tears have been shed while my captors taunted and ridiculed me about my God. And I remembered through my distress how, before the exile, I went with the crowds, with my family to the house of God with joyful praise. There were times in my early days of captivity that I would sink deep into my dream world and hear and feel the turbulent roar of God’s waterfalls and waves and currents wash over me. And in my prayer pleading for God’s light and truth I have somehow found home within the four walls of my prison. I was blessed with a memory of the time of my own ritual cleansing, when at seven I was called to the river. How deeply did I love those who stood around, solemnly waiting to see my “redeemed” head rise above the murky waters. This experience of communal love and humble hope for my well-being was my reality of life on this planet. Standing knee-deep in that muddy river I experienced the love of a river that flows continually in me and around me and through me. What did your great rabbi Jesus teach you? Ah, the kingdom of God is near. Yes that is what I discovered here in this strange land: that God is found not only in the holy of holies, but is all around me. God was there with me in captivity – it was like I was standing knee –deep in the river of God’s love. Yes, I discovered that God’s love is always there for me, is always surrounding me, flowing through me, and keeping me afloat.

So now it must come as no surprise to you that when I heard of Naaman’s dying I thought of home and healing and God and the prophet Elisha. Before I could think of the consequences I blurted out loud the knowing, the longings of my heart: “If only my lord were with the prophet who is in Samaria! The prophet would cure Naaman of leprosy.” Of that I had no doubt. The household must have been desperate – there was no dire consequence for me for my disrespectful behaviour– for without warning we were packing up and heading to Samaria. How could the words of a captured slave girl move such a powerful male warrior? I don’t know but it did. Suddenly we stood in front of the great prophet’s home – the immense entourage of Naaman’s horses and chariots and slaves waited to be in the ceremonial presence of this Hebrew prophet. But no such audience was arranged. Naaman was merely directed by a simple messenger to go wash in the Jordan seven times. “What?” (You should have heard the disdain in Naaman’s voice.) “I get no proper attention from this mere prophet! No grand gesture befitted for the great hero I am. These simple instructions may work for the Israelite peasants but I am a powerful man who takes no orders from anyone but the king. And what are you talking about - wash in some dirty river where our enemy has done who knows what… I will not stoop to such indignity. I will go where I know the rivers are clean. Give me the noble rivers of my home land!” And there went my master walking away in a rage. I grabbed one of the other male servants. I could not directly talk to my lord but I could prompt one of Naaman’s trusted servants to speak with him. I spoke urgently for I knew the power of rivers. So it came to pass another unnamed servant, also stood witness for the Creator so that Naaman would choose for such a God. Oh and choose he did. There was an amazing transformation as Naaman climbed out of the murky waters, the ancient waters of the Jordan. Like one called to the river this great warrior was united with the spiritual forces of the ages in a history-long struggle to overcome darkness with the light of the Great Spirit. His skin was new, like a young man’s and his eyes were new for he began to see what he had not seen before. He had been bathed in the river of God’s love and had discovered the living water that was surrounding him. Yes when the redeeming grace of God is experienced one cannot remain the same. The one who disdained the mud of Israel now requested to take part of Israel home with him – ‘two mule-loads of earth’. He wanted to worship the God of Israel on the soil of Israel. Yes, the God who heals through the muddy waters of the Jordan River had transformed this leader of the Syrian army.

        What leader wades through murky streams and bows beneath the wave,
        Ignoring how the world esteems the powerful and brave?
        Water, River, Spirit, Grace, sweep over me, sweep over me!
        Recarve the depths your fingers trace in sculpting me. [words by Thomas Troeger]

Yes, Naaman was called to the river and returned home in a different way. As for me, well on our return I was asked to water the soil of my homeland and I was part of the whole household’s worship of the God in whom I am watered.

        Signed: Standing knee-deep in the river of God’s love, The unnamed slave girl captured from the land of Israel.

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