For all the hardships connected to COVID- sheltering in place, riots in the streets, economic implosions, none of us, I suspect, have found ourselves giving thanks for having the head of a donkey or dove droppings to eat. That, however, was the situation in Samaria when the Syrians laid siege to their city. No one could come in and no one could come out and soon the city’s food supply dwindled. Elisha the prophet gave, however, a prophesy of blessing, promising that in only a day the cost of food would plummet. Everyone thought him out of his mind.
Outside the city gates several lepers did some hard reasoning over their situation. “If we go into the city,” they thought, “we’ll starve with the rest of them. If we stay here outside the gate, we’ll starve just like those inside the gate. If we go to the Syrian camp they might kill us. But they might not.” They made the obvious choice. The Syrians did not decide the spare the lepers. Neither did they kill them. Rather, they just weren’t there. They had already fled, leaving behind their tents, their horses, their weapons, and all their plenteous stores of food.
The lepers began to partake of these blessings, until their consciences accused them. They knew all too well that inside the city gates a whole city was in fear, and starving, when the cause of their fear had fled and the need for their want was ripe to be picked. They returned to the city and let the people know. Almost everyone came out to the feast. The one exception was the guard of the gate who, when Elisha had made his prophesy, insisted it could never happen. He didn’t go because he couldn’t go. He died, trampled by the people of the city on their way to the feast.
Who are we in the story? That depends. Though sin is central to what we were, and such would make us good candidates to be the Syrians, sin is not central to what we are. Though we are given to doubting, we are not the gatekeeper who was trampled to death. We may be the people of the city. Once starving, as good as dead, surrounded by the enemy, desperately hungry and then, invited to a feast we didn’t prepare, eating of that feast with joy and thanksgiving, now alive and secure, just as the prophet had foretold.
Yes, that is who we are. Rescued and redeemed. This, however, is not who we are called to be. It is one thing to be rescued, and we certainly needed that. Having been rescued, however, our Lord calls us to call others. He rescues us and calls us to be used by Him in the rescuing of others. We are supposed to be the lepers- no better than the people of Samaria. No better than the Syrians. But those who, by His grace, understood that their only chance was to throw themselves on the mercy of the ones who would likely kill them. Only to find the mercy of the One who gave them life. We are beggars all. We are feasters all. Let us show forth our gratitude by telling other beggars where the Bread finds them.