Two Kings and General
By Rev. Dr. Karin Case
July 04, 2010
Lessons: Text: 2 Kings 5:1-14
Text: 2 Kings 5:1-14
How astonishing it is that this story crops up in the lectionary on the fourth of July, the day Americans celebrate our independence, freedom that was won over two centuries ago, by going to war against a super power. How amazing to open the scriptures to the story of Naaman, who was a military general, perhaps like Colin Powell, Norman Schwarzkopf, Stanley McChrystal, or David Petraeus, a serious and accomplished commander, a great man. Although, II Kings tells us Naaman was, “high in the favor of his master.” So, I guess after last week’s events, we should take Stanley McChrystal off that list.
Naaman, a great man, who despite his stature and accomplishments, is also—underneath the uniform—vulnerable and human, like the rest of us. Naaman has leprosy. Now you know from the beginning that Naaman is probably going to be healed. Otherwise, why bother bringing it up? And you suspect that God will somehow be involved. Otherwise, why would it be in the Bible? But the story of Naaman the Syrian is one of the great stories of scripture. It totally draws you in.
So Naaman, the powerful Syrian general has leprosy, a simple fact that is known by his wife’s servant girl. We learn that the servant is an Israelite girl—a child taken captive in war—who is serving Naaman’s wife. She is a child, a powerless victim of war between the powerful. The only reason she is in Naaman’s house is because his army came through town in their chariots and took her captive.
Now this servant girl plays a key role in Naaman’s story. She testifies. Yes, testifies to the power of a prophet she has seen or heard of in her homeland,
Mighty Naaman, for some reason, listens to the advice of the servant girl. Maybe the skin condition is painful or unsightly. Maybe it’s the one imperfection he wrestles with privately; the thing that makes him feel not quite whole or the demon that plagues him as he lies awake at night. Maybe in his own mind it’s an outward sign of something wrong inside himself and it rankles and humiliates him. Maybe he’s tried a thousand expensive cures. Some of us know how that is, putting renewed hope into each promise of cure, only to be disappointed.
For whatever reason, Naaman believes the Israelite prophet might be worth a try. So he assembles the machinery he always counts on to get things done, the tools of power. Naaman goes to the King of Aram and secures a letter of introduction to the King of Israel. Comfortable dealing with power at the highest level, Naaman goes straight to the top.
Letter in hand, he turns to another kind of power and assembles a great treasury of gifts. Ten talents of silver, six thousand shekels of gold, and ten sets of garments. This is a lot of money. It’s like three yachts, the Maserati, the Hummer, the country estate, and the Learjet all thrown into the deal. A single talent was roughly the value of twenty years of work by an ordinary person. So we are talking about thousands and thousands of dollars.
He’s got the letter. He’s got the expensive gifts. Now Naaman assembles his horses and chariots—another display of power and status—and sets out for
The King of Israel has an interesting response. He gets angry and he becomes suspicious. The king basically says, “You’ve come to the wrong person. Healing is not within my jurisdiction. What are you asking?” The request seems so off base that the King thinks he’s being set up. In an expression of righteous indignation, he rends his garments. It’s a good thing that Naaman has brought fine garments as part of his gift. It looks like the king will need some new togs.
We readers and hearers of this story are left to wonder whether Naaman sort of forgot to mention the prophet Elisha in his letter of intro? The king is clearly wondering what kind of wing-ding request this is!
But when Elisha, the man of God, hears that the King of Israel has torn his clothes, he sends a message to the king. “Let me come to him, so he may learn that there is a prophet in
So Naaman makes his way to Elisha’s house. That is, he rides in with a retinue of horses and chariots to visit the prophet. To my mind, this is the single most absurd—even comical—moment in the story. Could the narrator be any more obvious? Here the powers of the world—status, might, money, fine machinery and military hardware—come face to face with spiritual power. Naaman rides up to Elisha’s place. We’ve got to picture it as something very humble. Elisha is a prophet of the people, in the tradition of his predecessor, Elijah. He’s the one who (in another story) is concerned with things like a widow having enough barley and oil to feed her child.
So there’s a jarring disconnect when Naaman rolls up with his military hardware. The two men are not dealing in the same currency. Elisha is not impressed. In fact, he doesn’t even come out of the house to greet Naaman. Oh, he can hear him coming, all right—the sound of horses and chariots. But rather than greet Naaman himself, he sends a messenger with instructions, “Go wash in the
This is not the reception to which General Naaman is accustomed. He grows angry. He’s used to meeting power with power, and he wants to see what Elisha’s got. In the context of his overblown expectations and by the rules of his game, these simple instructions feel like a diss.
Naaman’s ego kicks in. “ Surely this prophet, this healer owes me more respect.” Naaman’s first reaction is full of egocentric pride! And his second reaction is full of ethnocentric pride, “Surely the waters of my home country—the Aban and Pharpar rivers of
Here it is revealed that Naaman’s “problem” is not really his leprosy. His pride and reliance on the currency of the world make it difficult for him to accept another kind of currency—the spiritual power that is Elisha’s stock-in-trade. Power collides with power. Grand expectations collide with the need for humility. Self-reliance and bluster get in the way of seeing with clear vision.
It is the people of low status in this story who are able to see clearly. The slave girl who serves Naaman’s wife, who fist speaks the truth. Naaman’s own servants, who, seeing his rage, are able to reason with him. “General Naaman. Sir, if the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it? Then why not do this very simple thing that Elisha has commanded?”
All of the servants in this story have a sense of possibility and hope, which Naaman himself lacks. The humble people in this story matter. Two kings and a general, exercising their full worldly authority, find that their usual power to get things done simply falls flat. Their currency does not work in matters of the spirit.
The currency that counts—it turns out—is simplicity and humility. These qualities allow the clear vision to recognize the prophet, to speak the truth, to get one’s ego out of the way. It is not possible for Naaman or any of us to act on spiritual truth when we are invested in the powers of the world.
It would be easy to caricature Naaman and portray his actions as extraordinarily arrogant. But isn’t he just dealing in the only currency he knows? The currency of power and might and worldly status. And don’t we all get caught up in that same mindset?
Our Naaman—bless him—is able to hear the invitation of Elisha, the wisdom of his own servants, who urge—“maybe it’s actually simple!” He takes himself down to the very
And so Naaman receives healing. He is healed of his leprosy, yes. But what’s more, he is healed of his own ego. Stripped of the worldly stature and military prowess, which he has left at the riverbank, he meets true power, the power of the living God.
My hope for you, my prayer, this Fourth of July, this Communion Sunday, is that you may find inner freedom—the extraordinary, heavenly freedom that is Gods’ gift. When you hear the invitation to healing and wholeness and fullness of life, may you receive the grace and courage to lay down whatever it is that gets in your way.
Whether that’s uncertainty or fear, pride or arrogance, whether it’s clinging to status and respectability, whatever it is. My prayer is that you might be able to lay it down and wade into the waters of life. Whether it’s a command to “go and wash,” or an invitation, “come and taste, eat and be satisfied.” My prayer is that you will be open to that small voice within yourself that knows and hears and sees the wholeness that God has in store for you. Amen!