Supreme Humility

 With the new week, I moved one week in the lectionary schedule without realizing that Ash Wednesday was the next week, and this is the last Sunday after Epiphany, Transfiguration Sunday. So I have updated my lectio divina, but I am continuing to benefit from reflecting on the healing of Naaman in 2 Kings 5. I am not at all suggesting that God slipped my brain so I would get this, but having done so, it is a reminder to me to tend to my personal humility.

 Yesterday I observed that the young (nameless in the text) girl who was captured as booty in war and made the slave of the wife of the commander of the army of Aram, was a magnificent example of living out Jesus principle of loving enemies (though, of course, Jesus had not yet spoken those words, but they are embedded in the Torah). In her obscurity, she is also an icon of godly humility, in contrast with Naaman and the kings of Aram and Israel.

 2 Kings 5:1 described Naaman, the commander of the army of the king of Aram, as a great man and mighty warrior in high favor with his master. Even though the guidance to seek healing through the prophet in Samaria came from a lowly source, Naaman and the King of Aram go to the King of Israel rather than the prophet. Arrogant power people thinking they can actually get something by demand and bribe. Of course, the king of Israel knows he cannot effect this healing, but he ignored Elisha, though he was obviously known to the king.

 The text does not say how Elisha knew what had happened and that the king of Israel had torn his clothes. Some have suggested that God revealed this too him, which may be possible, but the text says that Elisha “heard” of it. (v. 8) When Naaman’s entourage, horses and chariots and loot, stop in front of Elisha’s house, he refuses to play to the hubris of the power people but sends his servant out with simple if humiliating instructions. Wash seven times in the Jordan River.

 Naaman is insulted at the suggestion of washing in the Jordan River rather than the great rivers of Damascus. He is insulted not just that Elisha does not come out to greet such an important person, but that he does not perform a dramatic ceremony. He storms off in a huff. It takes humble servants, who with gentle encouragement get him to give it a “why not?” try. This is not an act of faith, yet it is effective.

 Maybe more incredulous than insulted when Elisha refused the grand reward in person. Now Naaman professes allegiance, if not what we would call faith, to the God of Israel. Takes a load of Israel dirt back to Damascus so he can worship the God of Israel on Israel soil. Elisha does not instruct him that this superstition is not necessary and even gives permission for him to bow when with the king of Aram worshipping their god Rimmon. Any trace of either Aram or Israel exceptionalism is dismissed.

 In much the same vein, the text (v. 1) indicates that the Lord gave Aram victory over Israel through Naaman. So viewed from God’s perspective, even the highest claims for power and pride are signs of the reality of humility.

 Not that it is all that unusual, but in recent months we have seen a lot of pride and power strutting on the public stage. And even those of us who eschew it are susceptible to the subtle pride of thinking we can exempt ourselves. So as my lectio divina this week moves on from a mental slip, I am instructed to be alert to slipping into the reverse arrogance of rejecting it in others while missing it in myself.

 

 

Servant Girl “Spoils of War”

 

I am just starting my week of lectio divina on the story of Elisha’s healing of Naaman in 2 Kings 5:1-14. (The whole story goes for the whole chapter.) Today my attention was riveted on the young girl captured when Aram raided Israel. Her age isn’t specified, but I am guessing pre-puberty or she would have been considered a young woman and perhaps sexually available to Naaman. (The text makes no mention of that, but sex trafficking as a part of war is hardly new.)

 The first thing that strikes me is how empathetic she was to Naaman and how comfortable she felt talking to his wife. After all, she was their slave, at best. Besides, she was far from home. Yet, she expressed concern for Naaman’s health. I am thinking she is a role model for loving enemies as Jesus taught. (Matthew 5:44; Luke 6:27,35)

 The second thing that caught my attention is that despite being young and female, she was very aware of the prophet in Samaria. As the story unfolds, he is identified as Elisha. She had great confidence that he had the God-given power to heal Naaman, and a confidence that with the opportunity, he would do it. Apparently she believed Elisha also practiced the ethic of loving enemies.

 And thirdly, she was convincing enough that Naaman’s wife told him, who told the king of Aram, who gave it enough credibility to send a letter and large bribe to the King of Israel. No surprise that one power person would appeal to another power person and miss entirely the real power of humility of both the servant girl and Elisha (who didn’t even come out to see Naaman). I think I’ll wait for at least another day before reflecting on the centrality of humility in this story.

God's Invitation to Intimacy

I began my career in Christian education with a focus on the importance of affective learning, shaping behavior and character, and not being content to stop at cognitive learning, accumulating information. Rather early on I began to recognize this in the Church's deep legacy of spiritual formation. On that journey I have found great joy in soaking in Scripture as the nourishment of intimacy with God through Jesus. As I moved into pastoral ministry, I aspired to live this out in such a way that others would also be drawn into the wonder of intimate relationship with Jesus. Whatever I may or may not have contributed, I do know many folk who live the exuberant satisfaction of intimacy with Jesus. I also puzzled at many who responded to spiritual disciplines as a dull chore to be endured or left on the margins of life. With this background, I resonated with this quote in this weeks edgeofenclosure.org

Falling in Love

Nothing is more practical than

finding God, than

falling in Love

in a quite absolute, final way.

What you are in love with,

what seizes your imagination, will affect everything.

It will decide

what will get you out of bed in the morning,

what you do with your evenings,

how you spend your weekends,

what you read, whom you know,

what breaks your heart,

and what amazes you with joy and gratitude.

Fall in Love, stay in love,

and it will decide everything.

-Attributed to Fr. Pedro Arrupe, SJ (1907–1991)

Finding God in All Things: A Marquette Prayer Book

Mortals Cannot Abide in Their Pomp

  

So today, on the 19^th of the month, I come to Psalm 49 for at least the 600^th time in my daily prayer Psalm rotation. It is presented as an antidote to fear in times of trouble. (v. 5) However, this comes as a relentless gazing into human mortality and pretentiousness. Not one of the pretty, happy Psalms people post on their refrigerators. Actually, I find all of the Psalms in today’s rotation (19, 49, 79, 109, 139) to be powerful, if uncomfortable, prompts for intensive examen.

When I get to verse 11, “they named lands their own,” I remember and envision Percy Bysshe Shelley’s 1818 poem Ozymandias. So I find that a 3,000 year old Psalm and a 200 years old poem still speak with incisive discomfort today.

 

Ozymandias

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!'
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away."

 

Psalm 49

Hear this, all you peoples; give ear, all inhabitants of the world,

both low and high, rich and poor together.

My mouth shall speak wisdom; the meditation of my heart shall be understanding.

I will incline my ear to a proverb; I will solve my riddle to the music of the harp.

Why should I fear in times of trouble, when the iniquity of my persecutors surrounds me,

those who trust in their wealth and boast of the abundance of their riches?

Truly, no ransom avails for one’s life, there is no price one can give to God for it.

For the ransom of life is costly, and can never suffice

that one should live on forever and never see the grave.

When we look at the wise, they die; fool and dolt perish together and leave their wealth to others.

Their graves are their homes forever, their dwelling places to all generations, though THEY NAMED LANDS THEIR OWN.

Mortals cannot abide in their pomp; they are like the animals that perish.

Such is the fate of the foolhardy, the end of those who are pleased with their lot.

Like sheep they are appointed for Sheol; Death shall be their shepherd; straight to the grave they descend, and their form shall waste away; Sheol shall be their home.

But God will ransom my soul from the power of Sheol, for he will receive me.

Do not be afraid when some become rich, when the wealth of their houses increases.

For when they die they will carry nothing away; their wealth will not go down after them.

Though in their lifetime they count themselves happy—for you are praised when you do well for yourself—

they will go to the company of their ancestors, who will never again see the light.

Mortals cannot abide in their pomp; they are like the animals that perish.

 

The two portrayals of Charlemagne that I saw on my 2004 pilgrimage to Rome probe this even deeper with their visual contrast. The statue of Charlemagne by Cornacchini Agostino (1686-1754) sits by the entrance to St. Peter’s Basilica. The portrait of Charlemagne was painted from life ca. 800. It is in the Vatican Museum. I shudder when our gazes meet.

 

Can I Really Be an Instrument of God’s Peace?

Two and a half years ago I wrote about my struggle with maintaining the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace with the conflicted political environment that I believe has infected the Church (at least in the US). nstolpepilgrim.blogspot.com/2018/07/under-siege-unity-of-spirit-in-bond-of.html

The 2020 Presidential election campaign and its aftermath reached a fever pitch with the storming of the US Capitol on January 6. In response massive security measures have been implemented in anticipation of the Inauguration on January 20. A daily prayer encounter with the Prayer of St. Francis has been intrinsic to my spiritual rhythms for several years. I have wrestled mightily with how to be an instrument of Christ’s peace, especially among fellow followers of Jesus, in the turmoil that followed the election.

Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace;

Where there is hatred, let me sow love;

Where there is injury, pardon;

Where there is discord, harmony;

Where there is error, truth;

Where there is doubt, faith;

Where there is despair, hope;

Where there is darkness, light;

And where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master, Grant that I may not so much seek

To be consoled as to console;

To be understood as to understand;

To be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive;

It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;

And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life,

Through Jesus Christ our Lord.

 

Then today I read this from Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s “The Cost of Discipleship” (1937) at the edgeofenclosure.org site and found it incisively challenging.

 

The followers of Christ have been called to peace. … And they must not only have peace but also make it. And to that end they renounce all violence and tumult. In the cause of Christ nothing is to be gained by such methods. … His disciples keep the peace by choosing to endure suffering themselves rather than inflict it on others. They maintain fellowship where others would break it off. They renounce hatred and wrong. In so doing they over-come evil with good, and establish the peace of God in the midst of a world of war and hate

When the Nations Are in an Uproar

With all of the turmoil following the election that erupted with the storming of the US Capitol last week, I found Psalm 46 in my prayer rotation for today to be both powerful and reassuring as we anticipate the inauguration next week. The whole Psalm resounds with faith, and I have excerpted and reordered reflecting my conversation with God this morning.

“The nations are in an uproar, the kingdoms totter; he utters his voice, the earth melts. The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge.” (vv. 6-7)

“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change.” (vv.1-2)

“‘Be still, and know that I am God! I am exalted among the nations, I am exalted in the earth.’” (v. 10)

After soaking in the assurance of God’s presence in times of turmoil, I came to Psalm 106 which always gives me humbling pause.

“Both we and our ancestors have sinned; we have committed iniquity, have done wickedly.” (v. 6)

[God] “gave them what they asked, but sent a wasting disease among them.” (v. 15)

I shudder at the KJV translation, “sent leanness into their soul.”

 

 

Epiphany Today

Today is the Feast of the Epiphany, sometimes called Three Kings Day. It celebrates the revealing (that’s what epiphany means) of Christ to the Gentile world, represented by the Magi. I can’t escape the irony that this will also be a day of revealing in the US Congress, though in a markedly different way.

As I have been doing daily lectio divina on the story of the Magi visiting the Christ child in Matthew 2, these lines scream from the page.

“When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him.” (v. 3)

“When Herod saw that he had been tricked by the wise men, he was infuriated.” (v. 16)

Whatever anyone’s political perspective, today portends to be a day of fright and fury – fear and anger. In my daily lectio divina I have been prompted to pray for trust and peace – faith and love. As the news unfolds through the day, I invite all to join in similar prayer.