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By Tyson Thorne

March 6, 2014
 
 

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2 Kings chapters six and seven tell one of the most distressing, heart-wrenching stories in all of Scripture. The king of Aram gathers his troops and besieges the city of Samaria. The siege lasts not days or weeks, but month after month. Food runs out; people have already slaughtered all the livestock, including horses and donkeys. There is absolutely nothing in the city to eat. The king of Samaria is walking the city wall one day when he crosses paths with a woman in great distress. He asks her why she is so distraught. She says her and her neighbor made a deal that yesterday they would cook and eat her newborn son and the next day they eat the other woman’s son. What makes this story even more terrible is that the woman wasn’t lamenting over having eaten her son, but because the other woman didn’t keep her word and did not cook her son! The king was filled with rage and yet powerless to change the circumstance.

In the very next chapter the scene changes from the city wall to just outside the city gates. Four lepers are gathered and are also trying to overcome their inability to change their situation. One says, “If we go in the city, we’ll starve and die.” Another says, “If we stay here, we’ll die.” The third says, “We should defect, and surrender to the Arameans. Maybe they will take us in.” The fourth says, “Or they’ll kill us and we’ll die.”

I know! It sounds like a comedy routine. You could put these lines in the mouths of the cast from Saturday Night Live and it’d get big laughs. The Bible, like a great preacher, brings us to the edge of tears, then makes us smile and laugh, just before completely amazing us with a bold act of God!

The lepers walk to the camp where, instead of being met with unsheathed swords they are met by silence. The horses and donkeys are still tied to their posts. A gentle breeze ruffles tent flaps. The entire camp is intact but not a single soul greats them. Earlier, the Lord created a ruckus. He caused the Aramean army to hear the sound of large approaching army. They assumed the Samarian king had gotten a messenger through the lines and offered great wealth to the surrounding nations to come and aid them. Fearing being overwhelmed by a superior legion they fled, leaving their wealth, livestock and camp untouched.

Wild with relief the lepers rejoiced and ate and hid mass amounts of wealth away. In the middle of their fervor one of them goes beyond his greed and makes a remarkable admission. “We’re not doing right. This is a day of good news and we are keeping it to ourselves.” They went immediately to the palace to report the good news.

I think most everyone in this room can relate – maybe not with cannibalism – but to seemingly eternal struggles. Times get bad, really bad, and it seems bad news is only followed by more bad news. We wonder, “Why me God?” I heard those three words muttered under my friends breath more than once, and more frequently as his Parkinson’s becomes more and more pronounced. We’ve all wondered, even if we don’t say it out loud. It reminds me of Archie Bunker on all in the family who asks, “Why me God, there’s an Atheist next door!”

The story speaks hope into every life. The king couldn’t do anything. The army he trusted in couldn’t overcome the opposition. The food and grain he had stored up wasn’t enough. The people who served him turned on their own children. The situation was hopeless. Hopeless if your trust is in the flesh. For those whose trust is in the Lord, salvation is near. Sometimes it seems like it will never arrive, God often lets things get a whole lot worse than we would like, but he always comes through. Always. And what happens when he does? Do we simply pray a quick “thank you” and keep on living like we always have? Or are we like the one leper who moves beyond his own self-centered greed and echo his words, “This is a day of good news, and we are keeping it to ourselves.” Who do you tell that God has blessed you? Who do you rejoice with?