Karl Barth was one of the theological giants of the 20th Century. He may not be a household name to you in the pews, but to us who have been to seminary, he's one whose tomes of theology we've had to wrestle with . . . and wrestle with . . . and wrestle with! In his dense Germanic style, Barth labored on in volume after volume in an effort to mine the deep theological truths he perceived. And more than once I got a real headache trying to understand him. But on one occasion in his later years, Barth, having written all these profound volumes, was asked what he thought the core of his theology was. And he answered simply, "Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so."

This anecdote seems relevant as we look at the story in II Kings of the healing of Naaman, the Syrian army commander. Naaman as a successful military leader, was a man of considerable power and status in his day. But he had a serious health problem -- some kind of debilitating skin disease that the Bible labels leprosy. It may not have been leprosy as we know it today, but it was a real health threat, and Naaman was highly motivated to deal with it. Now, Naaman's wife was served by a young Israelite slave girl who had heard stories about the healing prowess of Elisha the prophet. When Naaman got wind of this intelligence, he was ready to swing into action. But note how he proceeds. Does he simply look up Elisha and ask for a healing? No way! As a man of status and power, Naaman believes in using channels because he trusts them to get him what he wants. He first goes to his own king and gets a letter of introduction to the king of Israel. Then he heads off to the Israelite king with a huge pile of money and gifts to grease his request for a healing. On meeting him the king of Israel goes ballistic, thinking that this foreign power is setting him up for some kind of provocation. But when word of his upset gets to Elisha, he writes back, "Send Naaman to me, and I'll take care of him." So Naaman, with all his horses and chariots, proceeds to Elisha's house, expecting the great healing his status and money would command. But Elisha doesn't even come out to greet him; instead he sends out his servant with a message telling Naaman to wash seven times in the Jordan River to be healed. Naaman takes great umbrage at what he perceives to be such second-class treatment and is ready to head back to Syria in a huff. But his servants prevail on him to at least give Elisha's prescription a try. And when he does, he finds his leprosy is healed.

Given what we know of Naaman, we shouldn't expect his approach to this situation to be any different. As a person of status and authority he has come to believe that he has the clout to shape his own destiny. His money, status and power are his tools for getting whatever he desires -- even a healing that might be seen as God's province. He expects deferential treatment, even from God's agent. And yes, he counts on his healing to be a big production, befitting the exalted person he is. Being told by a servant to go off and wash himself in a dirty, second-rate river like the Jordan simply doesn't compute for him, and he is offended. Only by overriding the cherished assumptions that have guided his life up till then can he be given the healing he so desires.

Well, friends, is there anything in this story we can identify with? Do any of us ever have a control problem or an attitude problem when it comes to coping with our life dilemmas? We want so much to believe, don't we, that we really are the "masters of our fates and the captains of our souls." There's a reason the song "I Did It My Way" has been popular for a number of years. I know I want to think that I can make life good for myself by my own wits; I know how invested I am in seeing myself as a self-reliant person. You ask why we men are so resistant to asking directions from anyone else. Clearly the answer is that we want to see ourselves as clear about our directions, and we don't want to think we need anyone else's help. And often that includes God's help. We think we should be able to figure out most things in this life on our own, even including the healing of our bodies and souls. You see, I think Naaman really thought the healing of his leprosy was his to command rather than God's to give. It was a matter of paying the appropriate compensation to the healer (in this case, Elisha), and it would happen. But the story is saying that this healing was God's grace, not Naaman's command, and therefore it happened on God's terms, which is why Naaman was upset by the form it took. It meant letting go of his calling the shots and humbly accepting God's way of acting and healing.

Ralph Milton has written his own scenario of the conversation that might have happened in Naaman's household on the occasion of his healing. It ends with these words spoken by his wife to Miriam, her slave girl:

There's something thatís been healed besides Naaman's leprosy, Miriam. I'm not sure what to call it, but it feels like a miracle. It was the Commander of the Army who went to Israel. But it was a man named Naaman who came back. He's a real man now, not just a swollen ego in a soldier suit. Naaman says that Jordan river of yours is just a muddy creek, Miriam. But maybe it soaked off his armor. Naaman says he did a lot of thinking along the way. I guess -- I guess that God of yours knew that leprosy wasn't Naaman's main problem.

One of the most basic tenets of our faith as Christians is that God knows better than we what is for our good and well-being. At one level it seems like such a simple, self-evident truth. Yet because of our armor of pride and self-reliance, it's one of the most difficult tenets for us to actually live by. A few moments ago we sang the familiar chorus: "Trust and obey, for there's no other way to be happy in Jesus, but to trust and obey." But in our heart of hearts we know it's a struggle to believe that -- which is one reason we always have ground to cover in our spiritual journeys.

On this Sunday after the 4th of July, a comment about how this may relate to us as a nation seems in order. Recently on the opinion pages of the Los Angeles Times, there was an article on how we Americans seem to have lost a sense of national purpose at this point in our history. In earlier years we were pursuing our "manifest destiny" and more recently "the American dream"; and this sense of purpose energized us as a people and made us willing to sacrifice for the greater good. But today the only purpose that seems to move us is a quest for more personal material wealth in the service of our individual desires. I find that a sad commentary. Perhaps we would do well to ask what God has in mind for us as the wealthiest and most powerful nation on earth. Surely with all our resources and giftedness we are called to something more significant in the human family than just feathering our own nests! Perhaps in trying to see ourselves through God's eyes we might get a new sense of national purpose that would revitalize us as a people in addition to what it would contribute to the rest of humanity.

There's one further thought that the story of Naaman's healing inspires. We've seen how Naaman tried to make such a production of his quest for healing. As a sophisticated person of status he assumed elaborate preparations were called for and that the healing itself would be an involved procedure. Elisha's prescription sounded way too simple to him. But in fact God's answer to his request was simple: humble yourself, and wash in the river, and you will be healed. I believe God's answers to our needs and requests are often simpler than we expect. Because we see ourselves as sophisticated persons who have to cope with complex problems, we tend to anticipate complex, sophisticated answers to our most basic life issues, befitting the sophisticated persons we are. We hear about the growing spiritual hunger in people all around us, and the elaborate ways many are trying to address it: through "New Age" channeling and crystals, new forms of Eastern religions, and a renewed interest even in witchcraft and astrology. Some plumb the depths of psychology or science or new forms of philosophy in the pursuit of life answers. And even we who call ourselves Christian often tend to view living by our faith as such a complicated endeavor. We can see Christian living as such a big production that we are wary of getting seriously involved in it. Well, of course, the Christian life is no small commitment. But most of the basic answers and guidelines are themselves basic and simple: love your neighbor as yourself, act with integrity and truthfulness, care for those in need, trust God's love and care for you, follow Christ's example in your living. We already have most of the answers within us, and what is needed is the grace to humbly accept them and to live by them to the best of our ability.

Now because we are sophisticated people, our need to conduct elaborate searches for answers is likely not going to go away. Often we will need to wrestle things through to satisfy ourselves that the bases are covered and we have done justice to the complexity of things as we see them. There's a reason Karl Barth wrote all those tomes of theology! At times the application of God's truths to issues may well get complicated. But part of the grace of life is that most of God's truths and answers themselves are simple. Many of you will remember the Jim Strathdee folksong of the '70s, "I Am the Light of the World":

I am the light of the world! You people come and follow me.

If you follow and love, you'll learn the mystery of what you are meant to do and be.

If we have the humility to pay attention, we will find the clues we need to discern what we need to do and be.

So I believe that Karl Barth's simple summary of Christian truth was on target. "Jesus loves me" -- we can't get any simpler or more basic than that. But if we understand that truth, then we'll have hold of two other truths we most need. We'll know that God's truth rather than our own is what ultimately matters; and we'll believe that God loves us enough to help us know the dimensions of that truth we need for the faithful living of our days.