Believe it or not, in the middle of the nineteenth century my hometown of Otsego, Michigan was a well-known mineral spring health spa. People came from all over the Midwest to bathe in the sulfur-laden waters in order to be cured of some ailment. It was called “taking the cure.” In the era before modern medicine, people were desperate to find some relief for serious physical ailments.

Of course, some of the ailments that brought people to spas weren’t physical, but psychological. Wealthy women, especially, often “took the cure,” complaining of neurasthenia, bad humours, and other romantic ailments. Harriet Beecher Stowe, of Uncle Tom’s Cabin fame, wrote that she took the cure frequently. Every summer she went to a spa at Brattleboro, Vermont, accompanied by her sisters. There was a little more rigorous regimen there called the “water cure,” but Stowe confessed in her writings that the real reason she did it was to get away from the responsibilities of being a mother and a wife for a little while. In her own words, she wanted to “enjoy the company of other women” while being waited on hand and foot by a solicitous staff, made up of other women!

Still, most people went to spas not for an emotional uplift but for a physical healing. The mineral waters were believed to have curative powers. The sufferers put their aching bodies in the warm waters, sat there for a while, and stepped out as new persons. My Uncle Ray, a medical doctor, once commented that “taking the cure” did no harm and probably helped ease the pain for many people.

But “taking the water cure” was not only to be found in 19^th century America, but also in Israel in the 8^th century B.C. Our scripture lesson this morning from the book of II Kings tells a wonderful story about the prophet Elisha telling the Syrian general, Naaman, to “take the cure.”

At the time, Naaman was one of the most powerful men in the world. He commanded the Syrian army and led it from victory to victory. In fact, Naaman won all the battles he ever faced except the one that was raging in his own body, the battle against leprosy. At least, that is what he and others thought it was. Today, we do not believe that what Naaman and other sufferers in the Old and New Testaments had was true leprosy, Hansen’s disease, contagious and deadly. They had some sort of disfiguring skin disease. But ancient peoples were not able to make that distinction. Anyone showing signs of a skin disease was believed to have leprosy and they were shunned or exiled from the community.

Reading between the lines of our story we may assume that Naaman’s skin disease came on after he had achieved his success and fame. But now all this would be taken from him. He risked becoming an outcast in the country he had served so well.

When we are sick – physically, emotionally, spiritually – we have a tendency to clutch at straws. We’ll take advice from any source, even from sources we would have dismissed when we were well. After Naaman had exhausted all the possibilities for a cure in his own land, he heard there was a prophet in Israel who had curative powers. A few years before, he had led a raiding party into Israel, probably coming across the Golan Heights so much in the news today. From that raid Naaman brought back a young Hebrew girl as a slave for his wife and she told Naaman’s wife about Elisha, his wife told Naaman, and Naaman told the king. Naturally, the king was delighted at the prospect of having his great general restored to health. The king sent Naaman to Israel with his blessing and gave him a letter of introduction to the king of Israel.

So off Naaman went, surrounded by an impressive retinue of soldiers and servants, carrying with him a king’s ransom in gold, silver, and clothing. He went immediately to see the king of Israel and gave him the letter from the king of Syria. It was short and to the point: “I have sent my servant Naaman to you that you may cure him of his leprosy.” Can you imagine how the king of Israel felt? He was convinced the king of Syria was trying to pick a quarrel to justify war. He had no power to cure disease.

But someone did have that power. The prophet Elisha heard what happened and sent word to the king: “Let Naaman come to me, that he may learn that there is a prophet in Israel.” So Naaman gathered up his gold and silver, his impressive wardrobe, his servants and soldiers, got back into his chariot and rode out to Elisha’s house near the Jordan River, probably near where the Sea of Galilee empties into the Jordan. When he arrived, I suspect Naaman sent one of his servants to the door of Elisha with the word: “Naaman is here. Come out at once and heal him.” Important people are used to giving orders like that and having people obey them. They also expect some deference from people lower on the social scale. But Elisha – like all true prophets – is not impressed with human pomp and power. In defiance of this world’s authority, Elisha sends out word to Naaman: “Go, wash in the Jordan seven times’ and you will be healed.” In my younger years, telling someone to go “jump in the river” was an insult and that’s exactly how Naaman interpreted Elisha’s words.

Naaman was furious. “Couldn’t this (so-called) prophet come out of his house to greet me? Couldn’t he offer some sort of special prayer? Couldn’t he wave his hand over me in a healing blessing? If being cured means bathing in a river, why couldn’t I have stayed at home and washed in one of the beautiful rivers in Syria? I didn’t come all this way to wade in this unimpressive, muddy stream.” In cold fury, Naaman prepared to head for home.

When we are very angry, we are not always fully rational. Our anger can get in the way of our better judgment. Fortunately, one of Naaman’s servants was able to break through his anger with some sound advice. “Look,” he said. “If the prophet had asked you to do some difficult thing, wouldn’t you have done it? All he asked was that you bathe in the Jordan. Why not try it? What harm could it do?”

Naaman swallowed his pride and accepted that correction. He dipped himself in the Jordan seven times. Did he really believe he would be healed? I don’t know. Was his healing a miracle? I don’t know that either. I do know that the waters of the Jordan as they flow into the Dead Sea have been curing skin ailments for thousands of years. This I do believe: God is quite able to work through natural means to bring about wonderful changes in human life. Real miracles are not magical interventions by God from the outside but rather God’s empowering work from within human life. By the way, after the healing Elisha refuses to accept any financial gift from Naaman. Quite a contrast, wouldn’t you say, with today’s television preachers. But back to our story.

After his healing, Naaman becomes a believer. He even takes two mule-loads of dirt back to Syria to put in the pagan temple there as a symbol that he now worships Israel’s God. Incidentally, in Damascus today, the central mosque is called the Great Omaiyid Mosque, one of the greatest Muslim holy places, said to be built on the very spot where Naaman dumped the dirt he brought back from Israel.

Someone’s probably thinking, “Well, great story Dave,” but what does it have to do with our lives today?” A great deal more than you might think. Our eternal human problem is pride. But like cholesterol there are two kinds of pride: the good kind for healthy emotional living and the bad kind which can ruin our relationships with other people and even with God. But, like cholesterol hidden in our blood we may not recognize the high level of bad cholesterol we have. It’s usually far easier to see it in others.

I don’t want in any way to trivialize the resignation of Pope Benedict but it did bring to mind a story that a priest friend of mine told me. It seems there were three priests riding on a train: a Jesuit, a Dominican and a Franciscan. Somehow their conversation led them to question which of their orders was the greatest. “Well, said the Jesuit, we are the greatest because we are the best scholars and teachers in the church.” But the Dominican said, “I believe our order is the greatest because we have the best preachers in the church.” The Franciscan priest said, “I know that our order is the greatest because we are the most humble!” Do you remember the line from Robert Burns, “Would that God the grace would give us, to see ourselves as others see us.”

It takes real courage to ask a loving family member, a trusted friend, or a skilled psychologist “What do you think I am doing right and what am I doing wrong in my life.” If we have the courage to ask that question and then the courage to listen to the answer, really listen, I truly believe we would be able to change our lives. We’d have more of the good cholesterol of proper self-esteem. We might not make the mistake of thinking we are better than we are.

Nations can also have the wrong kind of pride. That leads them to believe that somehow they are more virtuous than other nations. Such bad pride leads a nation’s leaders to cloak even their most unworthy acts with a mantle of self-righteousness. “We have the power to do whatever we want in the world and no one has a right to question or stop us.” The nation loses the capacity to admit mistakes and failures and change policies. I will give only one example of this “Viet Nam.” The wrong kind of national pride has caused every empire in the history of the world to fall. If we really care about America we have to do more than write letters to the Editor. We have to become involved in the political process.

And what about religion? Ahh, I saved the best for last. After a lifetime of observation I have come to the conclusion that too few denominations, too few churches, and too few of those who call themselves Christian are making a deeply serious attempt to follow the way taught by the Master. Believe me, I include myself in that group. I remember the shock humorist of years ago, Lenny Bruce, saying “If you have more than one suit or dress in your closet, you have no right to call yourself a Christian.” That’s far too simplistic but there is a grain of truth in it. What are we doing for the poor, the lost, the homeless, the despised? Thank God  for our Pilgrim Food Pantry. But whatever we do, whatever we give, we know we are well able to do and give more. That’s what real Christianity is all about, doing more I want to be that kind of Christian and I hope you do, too.

When we make a sincere attempt by ourselves and with the help of others to strip off all the wrong pride and jump in the river of true repentance, God will cure us. It’s called the “Good News.” So, will you join me in taking the cure? The Tennessee is not that far away. But our God is even closer. Thank God. Amen.