“Just Do It”

2 Kings 5:1-14

Mark 1:40-45

February 19, 2006

One of the many pleasures of being a parent are the times when I get to relive those significant moments of life through my children. Looking out over the ocean for the first time, holding a frog for the first time, seeing the moon through a telescope; all of them and more are the great moments of discovery and learning, which not only gives us a new lens, a new vision, in which to see the world, but they also open up a whole new way of being and doing in the world. But some of the moments of discovery and learning also point to one of the great truths of life, that there are some things in life we can only discover and learn by just taking a step of faith, by just doing it.

I remember the time when I taught Hollie how to ride her bike for the first time, and how it reminded me of the time when I learned how to ride a bike. I remember how I felt that day long ago when my dad and I went outside with my bike for the first time without training wheels. I remember the nervous excitement I felt, the borderline fear I felt. I remember how it felt to venture out into the great unknown, not knowing what to expect, not knowing the hurdles before me. I knew that Hollie would be going through the same thing – nervous excitement, borderline fear, and unknowing apprehension.

So there we were, just Hollie and I and her bike. I helped her get on, steadying the bike for her by holding the back of the seat and the handlebars. I told her to put her feet on the pedals, and then I said, “Okay, here we go.” “Wait a minute, Dad,” she yelled out. “Aren’t you going to tell me how to do it?” “Just move your feet up and down on the pedals and try to keep the handlebars straight,” I replied. “No, Dad, how do you do it?” “How do you ride a bike?” The very same questions I had asked my dad when I first learned. I too wanted to know the proper way to ride a bike, the secret that would give me immediate results, immediate gratification, immediate success. But his answer was the same answer I gave to Hollie, “There is no secret to bike riding. You just have to do it.” Like me, Hollie soon discovered just how simple and yet how difficult it is to learn how to ride a bike.

Of course, the key to teaching someone how to ride a bike is getting them to take a step of faith into the unknown even though everything in them is telling them that it is not possible. Hollie could ride the bike just fine as long as I was holding the back of the seat. We would go along, her peddling and me holding the back of the seat, all the time she kept saying, “Don’t let go! Don’t let go!” Until finally, after several falls and scraps, I said to her, “Okay, Hollie, I’m going to let go for a second.” “No!,” she screamed. “You can do it,” I said. “No, I can’t,” she would yell back. “But you already are doing it.” What she didn’t know was that I had already let go. She had already been riding the bike without my help. All she had to do to learn how to ride a bike was to just do it. So simple, yet so difficult.

In our Old Testament text for this morning, Naaman also wanted to know the secret, the secret that would give him immediate results, immediate gratification, immediate success, but without the cost of actually having to do anything, without the cost of risking himself, without the cost of taking a step in faith into the unknown.

Of course, good military generals, like Naaman, do not like to operate in unknowns, without proper intelligence, without proper knowledge of the battlefield and opposing forces. Their very success is dependent upon the correct calculation of risks, the correct consideration of options, and then they will only do something when victory is certain. Yet, Naaman, the great Syrian general, was facing an enemy like none he had faced before, an enemy that did not have generals and armies, did not have strategies and battle plans, and yet this enemy was beating him. As great a person as Naaman was, as prominent and powerful as he was, as wealthy and privileged as he was, Naaman was losing the battle with leprosy, a battle with only one outcome – the death of Naaman.

And so when Naaman hears about a prophet in Israel who has the ability to heal him, Naaman quickly jumps at the chance. After all, he had probably tried everything he could think to not only hide its affects but also to rid himself of the dreaded disease. But sooner or later, he would no longer be able to go out in public. Sooner or later, he would be relegated to the outskirts of the city, an outcast, one of the unclean. No, the great Naaman would not allow that to happen. So, he gathers up his entourage, straps on his gold plated armor, loads up his horses and chariots with money, gold, and clothes, and sets off for Israel in the pomp and circumstance best suited for a king. In fact, Naaman took so many people and so much stuff with him that king of Israel thought Naaman had come to fight.

But when Elisha heard about Naaman’s arrival and why Naaman had come, Elisha, the man of God, directed the king of Israel to send Naaman to him to show that there was truly a prophet in Israel. So Naaman takes his horses and chariots and all his fine gifts and heads to Elisha’s house. But, when Namaan arrives, Elisha does not even bother to come out to him, much less attend to him. Instead, Naaman is greeted by one of Elisha’s servants, who tells Naaman to go wash in the Jordan seven times and he will be healed. But instead of just doing what Elisha had told him to do, Naaman became angry. “I thought that for me, he would surely come out, and stand and call on the name of the Lord his God, and wave his hand over the spot, and cure the leprosy!”

The great Naaman came with great expectations, came for a great cure, and what happened? No hoopla, no trumpets, no fanfare, no special magic words, no special secret, only one instruction – go wash. So simple, and yet so difficult. Naaman expected Elisha to come running out ready to heal him, after all he was Naaman, the great military leader of Syria, who had given Syria numerous victories. Surely all he had to do was to command someone to do something and they would do it.

But not Naaman. No, Naaman wanted the quick fix. He wanted Elisha to come wave his hand, say his special prayer, so that he could be healed. But, he did not want to have to do anything. He did not want to have to put in the effort. He did not want to have to take a step out into the unknown, a step out in faith. No, Naaman would not go wash in the Jordan. He would not risk humiliating himself. He would not take the chance falling in order to be lifted up.

Oh, how many times do we become like Naaman wanting a quick fix to all that ails us, wanting immediate results, immediate gratification, immediate success, but without the cost of actually having to do anything, without the cost of actually having to risk ourselves, without the cost of actually having to step out in faith and risk falling in order to be lifted up. Too many times, we want someone to just wave their hand and say the magic words, and give us the secret of faith, the secret of God’s salvific healing, but without the journey, without the task of discipleship.

Maybe the problem with Naaman was not his impatience, but his pride. His pride said, “You can’t do it.” His pride said, “Don’t humiliate yourself in front of all of Israel, in front of the God of Israel.” His pride said, “Rely on the fame and fortune of your worldly status, rely on the prestige and honor of your military position, but don’t rely on the God of Israel.” And so Naaman heads home, still diseased.

But one of his servants comes to him and presents him with the ultimate question of destiny, the ultimate question that will put Naaman at the fork of the road and ask him to decide which way he will go. “Naaman,” his servant says, “all he asked you to do was go wash in the Jordan, will you not just do it?” “Will you not even take the chance, the risk, the journey to be healed?” “Naaman, just do it!”

And so Naaman does it. Naaman goes to the Jordan, removes his armor, removes his implements of war, removes his clothing, his prestige and power, and his pride, and washes himself seven times in the Jordan. And the God of Israel heals Naaman and makes him clean.

Just do it. So simple and yet so difficult. In our own pride and arrogance, we miss God’s presence and healing power because we think we know better or view ourselves as the exception to the rule. We want healing, but we do not want the obedience that goes along with it. We want to be saved, but we do not want the journey that goes along with being saved people. We want an instant God to hold onto us and tell us the secret, but at no cost to ourselves. We want an instant God ready and willing to say “how high” when we say jump, ready and willing to act at our beckon call, but without having to remove all that comes between God and us, between a life with God and a life without God.

This world today is full of people looking for something beyond themselves, and they spend their time searching for something “spiritual” in order to give meaning to their lives, to give them healing and wholeness. And like Naaman, they spend their time calculating the risks, considering the options, and then only doing something when the outcome is certain.

And yet, many people continue to find themselves searching for that which is beyond their grasp, for that which remains elusive and unattainable, because they are unwilling to let go of themselves. They are unwilling to lose their life in order to save it. They are unwilling to take that step of faith and rely solely upon God’s promise of healing and wholeness. The are unwilling to put their very lives in the hands of the only One who chooses to make us clean.

But only the faithful know that there is no quick faith or instant spirituality. Only the faithful now that fruit takes time to ripen and faith takes time to mature. You can’t attend one worship service, one Sunday school class, or hear one sermon and expect to be made spiritually whole. Spiritual wholeness is for a lifetime, in the life-long journey of faith in which we walk, for the long haul, through perseverance and endurance, obedience and servanthood, even through the trials and tribulations, suffering and pain, and the falls and scraps we go through on the way, even when we say, “I can’t do it.”

But the promise of God’s word is that even in those moments of nervous excitement, borderline fear, and unknowing apprehension, when we are unbalanced and the road ahead looks hard and foreboding, that we will discover the great truth of living a life in God’s presence - that just when we think we cannot do it, God says to us, “But you already are doing it.”

“Naaman, put your feet on the pedals and move your legs up and down and try to keep your handlebars straight.” “You can do it, Naaman.” “Trust in God’s word, go down to the river and humble yourself, and just do it.” “And for God’s sake, for our own sake, take us along with you.” Amen.