The Healing Process
A sermon based on 2 Kings 5:1–15 and John 5:2–9
To me, one of the most interesting things about going to seminary is learning the different ways that our ancestors encountered God throughout the ancient world.
Plato taught that God, being perfect, cannot be added-onto nor subtracted-from. Aristotle took that idea a step further to conclude that if God is perfect, and if God cannot gain any knowledge from human activities, then therefore God must be totally unaware of human existence at all.
I do not accept Aristotle’s argument. Scripture teaches us that God is deeply concerned for our well-being and wants us to be healed.
Process theology offers an alternative to the classical theology of the ancient world. Process theology holds every aspect of being is a process. All life on earth is a process. The universe, even reality itself is a process. By extension it follows that God’s own existence is a process.
To a process theologian, the greatest glory of life is being able to contribute to the ongoing process of the universe awakening into its own consciousness — helping God through the process of becoming God’s own future, perfect self.
Hartmut Neven, who is one of Google’s leading quantum theorists, has suggested that consciousness arises from the process of infinite possible universes all realizing themselves into one universe through the process of observation. (And if you want to know what that means, please ask my wife, Samantha, because I honestly have no idea.) But the point is, process is very important to me.
So, this morning’s sermon is on the healing process. The process of healing.
Healing vs Curing
Before continuing, I want to draw a distinction between healing and curing. Curing is also a process. But curing is accomplished by doctors and nurses and medical technicians and cancer researchers. God bless them all. Curing is done with medicines, stethoscopes, and tongue depressors and whatever you call that weird hammer thing that makes your knee jump.
Healing is the work of the church. Healing is the work of God. When you strip away the dialogue and the supernatural events and the historical settings of both of today’s scripture readings, we are left with one key message: God wants the whole world to be healed.
God loves the whole world, no exceptions. Jesus’s ministry was primarily rural, it was counter-cultural, it was apocalyptic, it was disruptive, and it focused on healing.
The reason I draw upon these two biblical healing miracles for today’s sermon is that these miracles do not require any magic. Jesus didn’t need to break the laws of physics to help the man at Bethsaida, nor did Elisha to help Naaman. I’m not saying they weren’t miracles. I believe these two interventions may have been psychological, and not supernatural at all.
The Man at Bethsaida
Regarding the man at Bethsaida, the author of John makes it clear, there were plenty of suffering people at the pool — people who were living with blindness and hunger and debility. Something about this man stood out to Jesus. Jesus wasn’t out there healing everybody that day, Jesus chose this man in particular. Perhaps Jesus, who was used to seeing sick people, recognized the man was in better shape than even he himself believed.
The man at Bethsaida had relied on others to carry him for so long that perhaps he gave up even trying to walk. Maybe he just gave up on himself. Perhaps he really did believe he was incapable of walking.
According to the American Psychological Association, there is a condition known as Learned Helplessness. It is often mistaken for depression and presents many of the same symptoms. Learned Helplessness is an acquired condition in which, after repeated traumas, the patient believes they no longer have any control over their outcomes and no longer take control when they have the opportunity.
Jesus helped the man at the pool of Bethsaida get over his stinkin’ thinkin’ over whether or not he could walk. Perhaps this is why Christ asked (a bit rudely) “Do you even want to be healed?”
It may have gone something like this.
“Do you really want to be healed? Because I’ll bet you can walk just a little bit, can’t you? You can make it 8 steps from here down to the pool. I’m not asking you to run a marathon. I don’t expect you to break any speed records. That’s fine. But I don’t want to hear any more of this ‘I can’t walk’ business. You can walk. Maybe it’s not easy to walk, or it’s painful to walk. That’s different.”
With no other ceremony, no waving of hands, no spells to cast, Christ simply tells the man, “Stand up, grab your mat, and walk.” And the man walked.
And the man by the pool realized what Christ said was true. Perhaps even the man himself had come to believe what his friends all said about him: that he needed to be carried everywhere, that he was too weak, too fragile, that he’d never walk again.
Jesus proved to the man at the pool that he could indeed walk.
To the man at the pool, that had to feel like a miracle.
Naaman’s Leprosy
Regarding Naaman, the editors of the NRSV seem a bit timid about addressing Naaman’s skin disease. The Hebrew text of 2 Kings 5 clearly indicates that Naaman suffered from “leprosy.” The King James Bible refers to Naaman — rather unkindly — as a leper.
Of course, we understand it’s wrong to call someone a leper. I first learned about inclusive language here at Christ Congregational Church in 1987 as a member of the High School Youth Group, back when the United Church of Christ was first taking on the question of how to address the gender of God.
Today, using our inclusive language skills, we would say that Naaman was living with leprosy, also known as Hansen’s disease. Leprosy is still a fact of life, and we should not diminish it nor ignore it. The World Health Organization reports that 200,000 cases of leprosy are diagnosed every year in more than 120 countries around the world.
Was Naaman cured of his leprosy by the power of 9st century BCE Israelite medicine? It’s difficult to imagine. The World Health Organization tells us leprosy requires at least 6 months of multi-drug therapy to be completely cured.
Being a student of process theology sometimes requires you to renegotiate your relationship with scripture. As 21st century readers of the bible, those of us sitting in this room know much more about science and medicine than the men and women who wrote the Bible. That’s another tough fact of life that a lot of seminarians seem to have trouble accepting in their first year.
But I think we can all agree that Naaman felt really defeated by his disease. He probably felt depressed and unlovable. So much so that maybe he let himself go. He stopped bathing and taking care of himself, which only made his quality of life worse. He just felt gross. He gave up.
Elisha helped Naaman view his disease as a manageable condition, not a death sentence. Elisha told Naaman to start bathing again. Not to start a new practice, but to take up an old practice. Bathe every day for seven days. Not seven baths in one day. I believe Elisha meant for Naaman to bath every day for a week. And Naaman spirits were healed and his skin cleared up. He started taking care of himself again. He regained his hope. He rejoined life.
Naaman’s declaration to Elisha afterward is significant as Naaman was an Aramean, what is now Syria. He is one of the first non-Israelites in the Bible to praise the Lord God.
To Naaman, that healing had to feel like a miracle.
Grace and Healing
Healing is a process. God expects us to play a role in our own healing. God’s grace is free. Christ’s covenant for the forgiveness of sins is a gratuitous gift from God that no human act could ever earn. It arrives instantly and permanently. God’s mercy is abundant, and there is always more if you need it.
But healing takes work. Healing is a process. Healing is a choice — whether that means an individual who is healing from a personal loss, or a church that is working to heal its surrounding community.
Elisha didn’t perform any magic rituals that day. No waving of hands, no casting of spells. Jesus didn’t show much fanfare to the man at Bethsaida, either.
Healing takes work. Simple work, but work. Standing up. Walking. Bathing. Brushing your teeth. Combing your hair. Praying. Eating. Washing dishes. Going to bed. Repeating as necessary.
Healing can be tiring. A chaplain once joked with me, “Try to get as much rest as you can. It’s a lot of work being this sick.”
ABC of the Healing Process
There three components of the healing process. Agency, Blessing and Community. A, B, and C.
Agency — The first component of the healing process is realizing that you have Agency. Naaman had agency. The man at the pool at Bethsaida had agency. Whatever you are healing from, you are not a passive recipient. As long as you draw breath, you have agency. You can make choices from the options you have. God gives you the freedom to choose. Process theology holds that God’s omnipotence ends where your free will begins. You have the power to stand up, to pick up your mat, and to walk down to the pool. God can’t make that decision for you. Jesus can’t heal you against your will. Jesus asks the man at the pool in Bethsaida, “Do you even want to be healed?”
Blessing — Blessing is the second component of healing. One of the oddest lessons I’ve learned so far in seminary comes from the book of Job. Apparently, in the book of Job, the Hebrew word for “blessing” (berakhah) can also mean “curse.” The idea is that when God intervenes in life, it sometimes feels like a curse. The miracle of healing is when we are able to find the hidden blessing that lives on the other side of a curse. We call that meaning-making. And meaning-making is process, often a very difficult process.
Community — Community is the third component of the healing process. No matter where we are in our healing process, we can draw comfort from the knowledge that we are not alone. This beloved community of healers and seekers walks with you. God the Creator walks with you. Christ the Servant walks with you. The Holy Spirit that fills our lungs walks with you. You are not alone.
Gifts of the Holy Spirit
God has blessed each of us with our own unique gifts. Saint Paul calls them gifts of the Holy Spirit. They include wisdom, faith, intuition, expertise, piety, understanding languages, and interpreting signs. I like to think of them as superpowers. And you have them too. Everyone does.
In Colossians 3:17, Saint Paul writes, “And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.” In other words, it’s not just what you do, it’s who you do it for.
In my previous career as a technology strategist, I wrote reports, searched for records, studied spreadsheets, drafted agendas, and sent emails. Now that I have devoted my life to full-time Christian service, I write reports, search for records, study spreadsheets, draft agendas, and send emails. These are apparently my gifts.
If your gifts include baking lasagna, or organizing carpools, or collecting mittens for winter, you can do those things here at Christ Congregational Church. Whatever your superpower is, there’s probably a need for it here or in our Silver Spring community.
If you haven’t yet, I encourage you to get involved, either as a volunteer or a member of a small group. Your gifts don’t have to be heroic or daring.
As Naaman and the man at the pool at Bethsaida discovered, healing yourself, healing the church, and healing the community may be closer at hand than you imagined.
