When we begin to realize the kind of energy we spend just trying to get the holidays right, it does seem silly to raise these crazy expectations over certain dates on the calendar. It’s also a personal embarrassment to say that I’ve spent my share of time in the “relationship martyrs” club over a misspent birthday or two. You know about that club, right? To join it, you have to be perfect, and your partner/kid/parent -whoever has to be a real jerk about something they should have known you wanted. It also helps if the partner didn’t even know they were supposed to a) take care of the kids, b) bring home flowers, c) put away the dishes, or d) you can fill in your own blank. They were supposed to read your mind, know your every wish, and be willing to swim through shark-infested waters all for the love of you – but then it turns out they were watching the History Channel instead. It’s enough to make an otherwise sane person say some very stupid things!

The “relationship martyrs” have been around a long time. Adam blamed Eve for the whole apple thing. Eve blamed the snake, but then again, Eve didn’t have a lot of choices to go with once the finger was pointed in her direction. Even with the people we love the most, it’s relatively easy to get all in a twist about who did what to whom. We expect a lot from the people who love us. We expect them to meet our needs and know our deepest desires. The problem is that at times we’re reluctant to articulate to our beloved just what those needs might be. We are afraid that our requests might be denied, or laughed at, or forgotten. We want to be seen as strong, and healthy, and perfect – not as someone who needs help, or affection, or attention.

Both of today’s readings are about a person who had a visible, physical need, and about the ways in which those needs were met. The Old Testament story is about Naaman, a powerful, fearsome general who, despite his accolades, was afflicted with a skin disease, leprosy. Naaman doesn’t directly ask for help. His wife’s servant, a captive from Israel, speaks to her mistress about how Naaman could be healed if he only knew God’s prophet in Israel. Before we get to the end of the story, the kings of both countries are involved, as are servants of Naaman’s and the prophet Elisha. It turns out that Naaman is more interested in the fanfare of his healing than he is about being cleared of his disease. He is disgusted that Elisha sent out his servant with instructions to go wash in the river rather than coming out to greet the general himself, and calling on God, and waving his hand over the offending spot. It was his servants, who I’m sure reluctantly went to him, to let him know that if the prophet had commanded something difficult, he would have done it, so why not wash in the river?

General Naaman was a full-fledged member of the “relationship martyrs” club. He was so puffed up with his own importance that he would rather issue his loud complaints about Elisha’s methods than be healed through God’s grace. He was probably embarrassed in front of his servants for they were the ones who reminded him that if he had been asked to do something hard he would have done it immediately. He was asked to do something easy and he grumbled all the more about the quality of Israel’s water compared to that at home. Fortunately, the story doesn’t end where today’s reading ended. Naaman returns to Elisha after his healing to offer thanks to the prophet and to God, and perhaps to eat a little crow. That’s never fun to do.

In the New Testament, we get another leprosy story – but this time, the afflicted leper comes to Jesus on his knees begging for healing. He lays his heart open before God’s mercy, and Jesus chooses to grant that mercy and offer healing. Elated, the man cannot contain the good news – even though Jesus asked him to. Rather that being motivated by pride, or entitlement, or any sense of obligation on Jesus’ part, the man freely asks and is freely given that which he so desires to be made well.

I only wish I could be that transparent more of the time. Human motivations my own included, like General Naaman’s, are marred with selfishness and sinful pride. What if, instead, each of us could openly and freely come to Jesus on our knees and ask for healing? What if our relationships with one another were less about unfulfilled expectations and quid pro quo, and more about giving and sharing the grace of being alive?

After imagining myself in the situational dilemmas of these two very different lepers, I am struck that we sometimes place the burden of responsibility for our healing on the fanfare and sacrifice of another person rather than taking the initiative to admit the need for God’s grace openly. Those who are in the healing professions can also take note from these stories that playing God in order to satisfy someone else’s neurosis and offering the healing grace of God are two very different paths as well. Neither Elisha nor Jesus were on the big show healing circuit. They fully trusted in God’s grace alone – whether that drew anger or adoration.

Rabbi and family systems therapist Edwin Friedman, also taught in stories much like scripture does because he believed that we hear the emotion of a story differently than we hear even logical truth about our own irrational behaviors. He has a fable called “The Bridge” that came to mind in conjunction with today’s scripture readings. It too shares the trouble we find ourselves in either by giving our responsibility away or taking on someone else’s needs as our own. It’s one of my favorite “relationship martyrs” stories. I’ll share it with you, and then you can mull it over on your own since it speaks in a multitude of ways.

As Jesus said of his parables, let all who have ears hear:

The Bridge – from Friedman’s Fables, Edwin H. Friedman, 1990, The Guilford Press, p. 9-13

There was a man who had given much thought to what he wanted from life. He had experienced many moods and trials. He had experimented with different ways of living, and he had had his share of both success and failure.

At last, he began to see clearly where he wanted to go. Diligently, he searched for the right opportunity. Sometimes he came close, only to be pushed away. Often he applied all his strength and imagination, only to find the path hopelessly blocked. And then at last it came. But the opportunity would not wait. It would be made available only for a short time. If it were seen that he was not committed, the opportunity would not come again.

Eager to arrive, he started on his journey. With each step, he wanted to move faster; with each thought about his goal, his heart beat quicker; with each vision of what lay ahead, he found renewed vigor. Strength that had left him since his early youth returned, and desires, all kinds of desires, reawakened from their long-dormant positions.

Hurrying along, he came upon a bridge that crossed through the middle of a town. It had been built high above a river in order to protect it from the floods of spring. He started across. Then he noticed someone coming from the opposite direction. As they moved closer, it seemed as though the other was coming to greet him. He could see clearly, however, that he did not know this other, who was dressed similarly except for something tied around his waist. When they were within hailing distance, he could see that what the other had about his waist was a rope. It was wrapped around him many times and probably, if extended, would reach a length of 30 feet.

The other began to uncurl the rope, and, just as they were coming close, the stranger said, "Pardon me, would you be so kind as to hold the end a moment?" Surprised by this politely phrased but curious request, he agreed without a thought, reached out, and took it."Thank you," said the other, who then added, "two hands now, and remember, hold tight." Whereupon, the other jumped off the bridge.

Quickly, the free-falling body hurtled the distance of the ropes length, and from the bridge the man abruptly felt the pull. Instinctively, he held tight and was almost dragged over the side. He managed to brace himself against the edge, however, and after having caught his breath, looked down at the other dangling, close to oblivion."What are you trying to do?" he yelled."Just hold tight," said the other.

"This is ridiculous," the man thought and began trying to haul the other in. He could not get the leverage, however. It was as though the weight of the other person and the length of the rope had been carefully calculated in advance so that together they created a counterweight just beyond his strength to bring the other back to safety.

"Why did you do this?" the man called out."Remember," said the other, "if you let go, I will be lost.""But I cannot pull you up," the man cried."I am your responsibility," said the other."Well, I did not ask for it," the man said."If you let go, I am lost," repeated the other. He began to look around for help. But there was no one. How long would he have to wait? Why did this happen to befall him now, just as he was on the verge of true success?

He examined the side, searching for a place to tie the rope. Some protrusion, perhaps, or maybe a hole in the boards. But the railing was unusually uniform in shape; there were no spaces between the boards. There was no way to get rid of this newfound burden, even temporarily."What do you want?" he asked the other hanging below."Just your help," the other answered."How can I help? I cannot pull you in, and there is no place to tie the rope so that I can go and find someone to help me help you.""I know that. Just hang on; that will be enough. Tie the rope around your waist; it will be easier."

Fearing that his arms could not hold out much longer, he tied the rope around his waist."Why did you do this?" he asked again. "Don't you see what you have done? What possible purpose could you have had in mind?""Just remember," said the other, "my life is in your hands."What should he do? "If I let go, all my life I will know that I let this other die. If I stay, I risk losing my momentum toward my own long-sought-after salvation. Either way this will haunt me forever."With ironic humor he thought to die himself, instantly, to jump off the bridge while still holding on. "That would teach this fool." But he wanted to live and to live life fully.

"What a choice I have to make; how shall I ever decide?"As time went by, still no one came. The critical moment of decision was drawing near. To show his commitment to his own goals, he would have to continue on his journey now. It was already almost too late to arrive in time. But what a terrible choice to have to make! A new thought occurred to him. While he could not pull this other up solely by his own efforts, if the other would shorten the rope from his end by curling it around his waist again and again, together they could do it. Actually, the other could do it by himself, so long as he, standing on the bridge, kept it still and steady.

"Now listen," he shouted down. "I think I know how to save you."And he explained his plan. But the other wasn't interested."You mean you won't help? But I told you I cannot pull you up by myself, and I don't think I can hang on much longer either.""You must try," the other shouted back in tears. "If you fail, I die."The point of decision arrived. What should he do? "My life or this other's?"

And then a new idea. A revelation. So new, in fact, it seemed heretical, so alien was it to his traditional way of thinking."I want you to listen to me carefully," he said, "because I mean what I am about to say. I will not accept the position of choice for your life, only for my own; the position of choice for your own life I hereby give back to you.""What do you mean?" the other asked, afraid."I mean, simply, it's up to you. You decide which way this ends. I will become the counterweight. You do the pulling and bring yourself up. I will even tug a little from here." He began unwinding the rope from around his waist and braced himself anew against the side."You cannot mean what you say," the other shrieked. "You would not be so selfish. I am your responsibility. What could be so important that you would let someone die? Do not do this to me."He waited a moment. There was no change in the tension of the rope."I accept your choice," he said, at last, and freed his hands.