Do you collect things?

If an archeologist were to examine my room for items that were still around since MY days in college, they would find scant evidence that I existed back then.  With the exception of three things.  A beer mug from Germany.  A polyester World Cup jersey from 1980, (looks exactly the same as when I bought it and I can still wear it – spooky!) and this rock.  (show rock) 

It is black granite, taken at the end of my third summer doing volunteer work in Northern Ireland, from the shore of the first place where I ever saw an ocean.  (okay, the North sea, but you get the picture).  I had worked three summers in the sectarian divided north, trying to help teach non-violent conflict resolution and give alternatives to the violent political marching season.  I met all kinds of wonderful people, but also witnessed all kinds of repression and ill will.  So as my time was ending, I picked this rock to remind me of the promise and commitment I made to God, under that Northern Irish sky – that with whatever time I had left on this earth (and I was hoping it was quite a bit of time) I would live in a way that would make a difference in this world.  I didn’t know if that decision would necessarily lead to the priesthood (I was already in the seminary) but I knew it was the promise I had to make to sum up my time and experiences in the north.  This rock connects me to those life changing weeks and to the God I met during my volunteer years.  I chose a fist sized one, because sometimes I have to hold it pretty tightly to keep faith.  26 years later, it still connects me to my deepest self and God.

   For those who are married or engaged, I wonder if your rings do the same for you?  I wonder if ever so often you pause and spin it on your finger, and look at the gold or silver or diamonds it is made of, and let it connect you back to your life giving promise – to your commitment that with whatever time God gave you, you would walk that journey with your spouse?  Your ring connects you, not just to a moment in history, but a choice, an experience where you knew God’s love and power in your world. 

   If you know that kind of experience, then the behavior of Naamen the Syrian makes perfect sense.  Naamen is cured from the death sentence of leprosy.  Even if you didn’t have the actual disease of leprosy, your isolation with other lepers would guarantee that it is only a matter of time before you did.  And now cleansed, Naamen returns to Elisha to thank him.  Elisha, wise prophet he is, would have none of Naamen’s reward – it is not about me, but is all about God who cured you.  And Naamen gets it, and asks to collect two mule loads of earth – reminders of the place and time where he met God in a way that saved him.  Though you don’t know if he made it into a garden or built an altar on it, Naamen takes it wherever he goes to connect him to that moment that changed everything.

   In the gospel, however, the Samaritan does not need to ‘collect anything to remind him’.  He is able to return to the feet of the one who cured him.  There, kneeling at the feet of Jesus, he is face to face with the God who changed everything for him.  And note that Jesus acknowledges that connection – 9 were cured, only one was SAVED – the one who connected his cleansing with thanksgiving to the one who had cleansed him. 

  How human it is to connect the things in our lives to the moments of grace and salvation.  This week, I invite you to look through your room to the things you collect.  Be it a ring, a rock, a trophy – let whatever it is ‘connect you’ first back to the moment the item represents – the choice, the triumph, the commitment.  Then, like the Samaritan in the gospel, let the item connect you to the source of salvation and grace – Jesus, our Savior.  And when you come to this altar, receive, like the Samaritan, the promise and gift of God’s love and grace, and, like my rock does for me, let the gift of Jesus send you back into the world to live that love for all the days God gives you…