Epiphany 6
Devotional
Streams of Living Water
Lectionary Devotional for Cycle B
Object:
2 Kings 5:1-14
If the prophet had demanded of you that you do something difficult, would you not have done it?
-- 2 Kings 5:3b
We live in a world in which we insist on the dramatic and the extraordinary. It creates a situation in which we often overlook the miraculous in the ordinary. Perhaps it is reflective of our ego that we assume that our problems can only be resolved in dramatic fashion. This intriguing little story of the healing of Naaman challenges these preconceptions. When Naaman wanted to be healed, even though a lowly servant girl told him that it was the prophet that would heal him, he went to the king. Important people only deal with important people. When he was finally convinced to go to the prophet, he assumed that the prophet would do something dramatic in executing his healing. And he certainly assumed that his prominence was worthy of a personal audience with the prophet and perhaps participation in some mysterious incantations. He was furious when a mere servant of the prophet gave him the message to simply go and wash in a nearby river.
Again, it was a servant who understood the truth of the message and reasoned with him that he should follow the prophet's instructions. In a world that creates a hierarchy of what and who is important, we are confronted with the fact that God works through the ordinary and speaks through the "least of these" the healing message of God. For Christians this is boldly exemplified each time we take ordinary bread and wine and recognize that through these ordinary basics of life we are directed to the extraordinary truth of God's love for us.
Psalm 30
You have turned my mourning into dancing; you have taken off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy....
-- Psalm 30:11
Psalm 30 can be reflected on in the context of Peter's denial. You can imagine Peter, having denied his Lord three times, rushing out into the night weeping, and later finding himself reconciled to his risen Lord, praying this prayer: "I will extol you, O Lord, for those you have drawn me up." He knows that his enemies did not finally triumph (v. 1). His weeping at his own betrayal became a cry to God for help that was heard (v. 2). The betrayal which left him in the despair of death had been broken (v. 3), and he was ready to witness to his own salvation among the saints (v. 4). He knew for certain that the anger of God was a judgment for salvation (v. 5). He knew that he had once bragged of his ability to stick by Jesus no matter what (v. 6) and only later realized that his courage was also a gift of God (v. 7). Yet even in despair, he discovered God had not abandoned him (v. 8), and Peter chose life rescued by forgiveness rather than some abstract of judgment that could only result in death (v. 9).
Therefore, for Peter, his Lord was also his helper (v. 10). Out of Peter's experience of denial and reconciliation, he could pray, "thou hast turned for me my mourning into dancing. Thou hast loosed my sackcloth and girded me with gladness" (v. 2). The result was that his life had been released for praise (v. 12). Peter's prayer becomes our prayer when we become overwhelmed by our own betrayal and wonder at the forgiving grace of God. For those who are captured by their own sense of guilt, it is worth asking whether their sins could be any worse than the total denial of Jesus at the time of his need. If God can forgive Peter and make him a leader in the church, then what is possible for any of us?
1 Corinthians 9:24-27
Athletes exercise self-control in all things; they do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable one.
-- 1 Corinthians 9:25
It is such a simple image, and one with which anyone who follows sports can identify. Who has not watched an Olympic athlete and wondered at the dedication that could produce such superb results? If someone should say to us that he or she wants to win an Olympic gold medal but that they do not want to practice or train, we would call them utterly foolish. Now Paul turns this simple image on us and our practice of the faith. Compare the medal or ribbon that an athlete will train so hard for to the goal of the Christian faith.
How many Christians want the easy path to faith, which may include an emotional conversion experience? They resist, however, the need to train themselves in the faith through the practice of a strong discipline of prayer, worship, scriptural study, and works of compassion. When we compare our society's insistence on immediate answers and easy rewards with the dedication of an athlete who will train for years with the dream of the Olympic medal, we are stunned by the dedication displayed. What are the disciplines of faith that could cultivate the ground in which God's gift of faith could grow in your life? If you had faith so as to move mountains, would that be a worthy pursuit?
Mark 1:40-45
See that you say nothing to anyone but go show yourself to the priest.
-- Mark 1:44a
Moved with pity, Jesus cleansed the leper and then warned him not to say anything to anyone but to go directly to the priests and make a testimony to them. It is a strange moment in which Jesus' healing touch is responded to by the man's refusal to keep quiet. Jesus was apparently trying to avoid the pressures of a spreading fame by restricting displays of healing. Yet he was so moved by the leper's condition that he went against his own desires and healed him. The very thing that Jesus did not want began to happen. Why would Jesus warn him to say nothing about this miraculous cleansing? Was the leper, in going out and proclaiming it freely, making a show of his healing? There would be many who had not experienced healing. By proclaiming his healing, was he trying to make himself special as if God had particularly favored him above others?
Can our testimony of what God has done in our lives become our own ego-trip that only seemingly gives credit to God? Jesus told the leper to go show himself to the priest and make a specified offering to God. By quietly following the ritual of thanksgiving, he was thanking God but not making himself the center of attention. When does our witness draw too much attention to ourselves and thereby distort the truth of God working in us? Can a church or an individual be too showy in their faith and thereby hinder the work of Christ?
If the prophet had demanded of you that you do something difficult, would you not have done it?
-- 2 Kings 5:3b
We live in a world in which we insist on the dramatic and the extraordinary. It creates a situation in which we often overlook the miraculous in the ordinary. Perhaps it is reflective of our ego that we assume that our problems can only be resolved in dramatic fashion. This intriguing little story of the healing of Naaman challenges these preconceptions. When Naaman wanted to be healed, even though a lowly servant girl told him that it was the prophet that would heal him, he went to the king. Important people only deal with important people. When he was finally convinced to go to the prophet, he assumed that the prophet would do something dramatic in executing his healing. And he certainly assumed that his prominence was worthy of a personal audience with the prophet and perhaps participation in some mysterious incantations. He was furious when a mere servant of the prophet gave him the message to simply go and wash in a nearby river.
Again, it was a servant who understood the truth of the message and reasoned with him that he should follow the prophet's instructions. In a world that creates a hierarchy of what and who is important, we are confronted with the fact that God works through the ordinary and speaks through the "least of these" the healing message of God. For Christians this is boldly exemplified each time we take ordinary bread and wine and recognize that through these ordinary basics of life we are directed to the extraordinary truth of God's love for us.
Psalm 30
You have turned my mourning into dancing; you have taken off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy....
-- Psalm 30:11
Psalm 30 can be reflected on in the context of Peter's denial. You can imagine Peter, having denied his Lord three times, rushing out into the night weeping, and later finding himself reconciled to his risen Lord, praying this prayer: "I will extol you, O Lord, for those you have drawn me up." He knows that his enemies did not finally triumph (v. 1). His weeping at his own betrayal became a cry to God for help that was heard (v. 2). The betrayal which left him in the despair of death had been broken (v. 3), and he was ready to witness to his own salvation among the saints (v. 4). He knew for certain that the anger of God was a judgment for salvation (v. 5). He knew that he had once bragged of his ability to stick by Jesus no matter what (v. 6) and only later realized that his courage was also a gift of God (v. 7). Yet even in despair, he discovered God had not abandoned him (v. 8), and Peter chose life rescued by forgiveness rather than some abstract of judgment that could only result in death (v. 9).
Therefore, for Peter, his Lord was also his helper (v. 10). Out of Peter's experience of denial and reconciliation, he could pray, "thou hast turned for me my mourning into dancing. Thou hast loosed my sackcloth and girded me with gladness" (v. 2). The result was that his life had been released for praise (v. 12). Peter's prayer becomes our prayer when we become overwhelmed by our own betrayal and wonder at the forgiving grace of God. For those who are captured by their own sense of guilt, it is worth asking whether their sins could be any worse than the total denial of Jesus at the time of his need. If God can forgive Peter and make him a leader in the church, then what is possible for any of us?
1 Corinthians 9:24-27
Athletes exercise self-control in all things; they do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable one.
-- 1 Corinthians 9:25
It is such a simple image, and one with which anyone who follows sports can identify. Who has not watched an Olympic athlete and wondered at the dedication that could produce such superb results? If someone should say to us that he or she wants to win an Olympic gold medal but that they do not want to practice or train, we would call them utterly foolish. Now Paul turns this simple image on us and our practice of the faith. Compare the medal or ribbon that an athlete will train so hard for to the goal of the Christian faith.
How many Christians want the easy path to faith, which may include an emotional conversion experience? They resist, however, the need to train themselves in the faith through the practice of a strong discipline of prayer, worship, scriptural study, and works of compassion. When we compare our society's insistence on immediate answers and easy rewards with the dedication of an athlete who will train for years with the dream of the Olympic medal, we are stunned by the dedication displayed. What are the disciplines of faith that could cultivate the ground in which God's gift of faith could grow in your life? If you had faith so as to move mountains, would that be a worthy pursuit?
Mark 1:40-45
See that you say nothing to anyone but go show yourself to the priest.
-- Mark 1:44a
Moved with pity, Jesus cleansed the leper and then warned him not to say anything to anyone but to go directly to the priests and make a testimony to them. It is a strange moment in which Jesus' healing touch is responded to by the man's refusal to keep quiet. Jesus was apparently trying to avoid the pressures of a spreading fame by restricting displays of healing. Yet he was so moved by the leper's condition that he went against his own desires and healed him. The very thing that Jesus did not want began to happen. Why would Jesus warn him to say nothing about this miraculous cleansing? Was the leper, in going out and proclaiming it freely, making a show of his healing? There would be many who had not experienced healing. By proclaiming his healing, was he trying to make himself special as if God had particularly favored him above others?
Can our testimony of what God has done in our lives become our own ego-trip that only seemingly gives credit to God? Jesus told the leper to go show himself to the priest and make a specified offering to God. By quietly following the ritual of thanksgiving, he was thanking God but not making himself the center of attention. When does our witness draw too much attention to ourselves and thereby distort the truth of God working in us? Can a church or an individual be too showy in their faith and thereby hinder the work of Christ?
