H. Michael Brewer
Crescent Springs Presbyterian
24 July 2005
GIVING OR GRABBING?
2 Kings 5:19b-27
We return once more to the story of Naaman the Syrian leper who was healed by Elisha the
prophet. When Naaman begs to give some token of appreciation to Elisha, the prophet refuses and
sends Naaman on his way. But before Naaman has gotten very far, Elisha’s servant Gehazi catches up
with him, determined to make a little hay from this situation. He informs Naaman that Elisha has
changed his mind about a reward, and Gehazi returns home with a bag of silver and two suits of clothing
which he conceals from Elisha.
However, the prophet is not so easily deceived. He condemns Gehazi for his greed and announces
that from this time on, Gehazi will take on the leprosy that once clung to Naaman.
We could make a long list of Gehazi’s sins. In this one greedy deed he commits theft, fraud, lying, and
disobedience. But none of these get at the heart of Gehazi’s problem. Let me try to explain it this way.
There are only two fundamental approaches to life, only two philosophies competing for our hearts.
Either we are givers or we are grabbers.
Let me put it another way. In our hearts, we either believe we owe a debt to the world for blessings
and graces received or we believe the world owes us a debt because we haven’t received our fair
share, we haven’t been adequately rewarded for our efforts, our goodness, and our hard work.
We have no doubt which philosophy Gehazi embraces. He’s a grabber. Notice his
attitude toward Naaman the leper who’s been healed by Elisha. Gehazi says to himself,
“My master Elisha has let this rich foreigner off much too easy. He cleansed his leprosy
and didn’t charge him a dime. Here I work hard day after day in Elisha’s service
and I can barely make ends meet, while this rich Syrian waltzes away Scot free. This isn’t fair. He has
so much, and I have so little. I’m going to do something to even things up.”
Do you hear it? Gehazi’s a grabber, and when grabbers weigh the world, grace and gratitude never
enter the equation.
“He has more than he deserves, and I’ve been short-changed. Why shouldn’t I make a few dollars
on this? The world owes me. I’ve got it coming.”
Gehazi’s sin is not just that he grabs a little loot and hides it away. His failing is a sickness of the
heart. He begrudges Naaman’s good fortune. He envies Naaman’s wealth. He is so dazzled by
Naaman’s blessings that he is blind to his own blessings.
Naaman’s punishment may seem severe, but surely it is poetic justice. He forfeits his calling to serve
Elisha, the calling he has belittled by his actions. He loses his good health, the unacknowledged blessing
he has taken for granted. He has denied Naaman’s right to God’s grace, and now Gehazi is himself
bereft of grace. The inward decay of selfishness and envy gives way to the outward decay of leprosy.
Gehazi wanted his just deserts and now he’s got exactly that.
The best commentary on this story is contained in the words of Jesus. Sending his disciples out to
heal the sick, to cleanse lepers, to cast out demons, Jesus says to them, “You received without
payment; give without payment,” (Matthew 10:8 NRSV). Let’s be clear. Jesus isn’t forbidding his
disciples to receive help and support in their ministries. “Laborers deserve their food,” says Jesus. We
know the early disciples and apostles accepted food and shelter for their efforts. Jesus is simply
reminding his followers—his 1st Century followers and his 21st Century followers—that we have
received so much from God that we can afford to be generous. Having been given so much, we can be
givers. We are so indebted to grace, that we would be foolish to keep score in life. We are so beholden
for all God’s love and mercy that we could never in thousand lifetimes repay what we owe.
What have we received from God? What are we indebted for? Never mind the wealth that allows
us to live in luxury and security beyond the wildest dreams of most of humanity. Ignore the privileges of
freedom, education, and democratic government. Never mind the daily miracles of walking and seeing
and hearing and tasting. Forget the people who love you and the friends and family who have helped
you along the way. Set aside the riches of music, art, poetry, story, and nature. Just blot out of mind the
incalculable blessings you and I inherited at birth.
Above and beyond all that, God has given us Jesus Christ. We have received God’s own Son, what
Paul calls the “indescribable gift,” (2 Corinthians 9:15 NRSV). “From his fullness,” John says, “we have
all received, grace upon grace,” (John 1:16 NRSV). Through Christ we are forgiven our past, we are
raised to a new future. Through Christ God is revealed to us and the Spirit of God takes up residence
within us. Through Christ we are born anew as the sons and daughters of the Most High and we are
promised an eternal inheritance in heaven.
No one who attempts to measure the gift we have received in Christ can ever again complain that
the world owes us anything. We have been blessed far beyond our limits to repay. We are debtors to
grace. I don’t mean that we must work and slave to pay back what cannot be paid back. I mean grace
sets us free to live graciously, to begrudge good fortune to no one, to deal generously with everyone, to
be givers instead of grabbers.
Jesus tried again and again to impress upon us the debt of blessedness. He told a story about a slave
whose master forgave him a huge debt, and then the hard-hearted slave refused to forgive the tiny debt
that a fellow slave owed him.
Jesus said, “Pray like this, ‘Our Father in heaven, if you’ll forgive the unimaginable debt I owe to
you, then I’ll gladly forgive the trivial debts others owe to me.’”
Jesus said, “If you believe in me, rivers of living water will flow from your heart,” which is to say that
disciples are not reservoirs or cisterns, hoarding God’s grace until it grows stagnant and stale; we are
channels, we are conduits, we are riverbeds—God’s love flows into us and through us into a thirsty
world. Christians are not keepers, but sharers. We are not grabbers, but givers, and the more we give
freely to others, the more freely God gives to us.
Someone once asked a generous supporter of the church work how he could afford to give so
much. The fellow just laughed and said, “Oh, as I shovel it out, God shovels it in, and the Lord has a
much larger shovel than I do.”
How do you feel about life? If you are continually aware of your blessings, if you are indebted to
grace, your life will probably bear the sweet fruits of gratitude, generosity, forgiveness, and
contentment. On the other hand, if you feel that you’ve been short-changed, if you really believe the
world owes you an unpaid debt, then you can expect to harvest the bitter fruits of greed, envy,
covetousness, jealousy, resentment, and that most bitter fruit of all: fear.
Why fear? Because without the comfort of grace, we will always be afraid that someone else will get
more than we do; we’ll be afraid that we won’t get our share; we’ll be afraid that we don’t have enough
for tomorrow or the day after tomorrow.
Poor Gehazi the grabber. It would be funny if it weren’t so tragic. Here he is—the servant and
constant companion of Elisha the prophet. Elisha has already shown that he can feed the hungry, he can
bring wealth to the poor, he can heal the sick. It’s hard to imagine anything that Gehazi might need that
Elisha wouldn’t give him freely and gladly in God’s name. But Gehazi doesn’t ask. Instead he sells his
soul for two robes and a few pieces of silver. It’s almost funny. Almost…
In southwestern Mexico, there’s an Indian tribe called the Mazatecs. A missionary who has lived
among them for forty years says that selfishness is ingrained in their culture. They don’t wish one
another a good day. They don’t share recipes or farming know-how. Even the Christians in that tribe
are reluctant to tell others about Jesus. The Mazatecs are burdened with a concept of "limited
goodness." They believe there is only so much goodness to go around. It’s a limited pool. If you teach
someone, you risk draining yourself of knowledge. To love a second child means you have to love the
first child less. To say to someone, "Have a good day," means you have just forfeited some of your own
happiness.
It’s fear that makes grabbers—the fear that there’s only so much to go around and I’d better get my
share.
And it’s grace that makes givers—the grace of an abundant God, the grace of an all-sufficient
Savior, the grace of a bottomless love that never runs dry.
Soli Deo Gloria!