This morning I was reading in the book of Second Kings, and I came across a well-known story, one I learned in Sunday School. It was of Naaman the leper, the one who had a little servant girl who told his wife (her mistress) about a prophet in Israel who could cure him of his leprosy. Yes, the photo to the right (above) is a fellow who has leprosy, a debilitating disease, and in those days, there was no cure.
I relaxed and let the story pull me in. I wondered what God was going to teach me that I didn't already know. He's funny like that.
Naaman was a high-ranking military official, like a general in our culture. He was second only to the king, and when he heard of a possible cure for this disease, he asked permission from his boss (the king) to go to Israel. And he told him why. The king (being a bureaucrat) heard what he wanted to hear and sent a letter not to the prophet, but to the king of Israel to have him either take the credit for the healing (or the blame in case Naaman wasn't cured.) He sent plenty of money, obviously bribe money to try to entice the king of Israel to do as he was asked. ("What's in it for me?" is a very old question.)
When Naaman got there, the king of Israel read the Aramean king's letter and was very upset. He thought it was a trick to get him to displease the sender, and worried that there would be an attack. After all, before him stood the general of the foreign king's army AND his significant entourage, enough to attend to all the animals that carried the bribes he brought with him.
The prophet Elisha heard what had happened and he sent a message to the king of Israel. "Send him to me. Then you will know there is a prophet in Israel." When Naaman got to the prophet's house, his servant came out with a message for him. "Wash seven times in the Jordan River and your leprosy will be cured." Naaman was furious! The Jordan was a muddy river, prone to flooding, and there were rivers far more clean even in nearby Samaria. He was about to leave in a rage, when his servants talked some sense into him. "If this prophet had asked you to perform some great and difficult feat, you would have done that, wouldn't you? How much simpler it is to just 'wash and be clean'!"
How much simpler indeed. It was the simplicity of it that offended the great man. He had come looking to buy his way, to impress his way into the good graces of whatever god this nation served. He expected to at least speak to the prophet in person, perhaps to have the prophet wave his hand over him and - puff of smoke and abracadabra - his leprosy would be gone. But he hadn't counted on this. This was too simple. Yet his servants were so earnest - and what they said did have some merit ...
Naaman relented. And this is the picture that struck me this morning.
General Naaman had to take off his armor to go into the Jordan. This armor was head-to-foot and up until now, he had been able to hide the extent of his deforming disease from all but his family and close friends.
But this, this was different; this was humiliating. He had to strip down to his underwear, and expose the repulsiveness of his disease to anyone who might just happen along, as well as to his entire entourage. He had to submit his will to the will of another. He had to let go of his preconceived notions of a god who expected some give-and-take. He had to become vulnerable in his area of deepest weakness.
When he got up for the seventh time out of the muddy waters of the Jordan (excuse the artist's rendition) his skin was like that of a child. All his leprous spots were gone, just as his wife's servant-girl had predicted!
Better than that outward healing, a transformation had taken place on Naaman's insides. He had come to know a new God. A "God of his understanding" - one who met him at his point of need and touched him where nobody could touch him before, who was no respecter of persons and who cared about him personally.
Naaman made a decision in his grateful heart, right there and then. He had to say thank you - not just to the prophet but to God - and for the rest of his life.
He went back to the prophet and tried to pay him. No dice, came the response. This is free. Overwhelmed, Naaman then made a request (which was granted!) and the request itself and his reason behind it is how we know his heart had changed.
He wanted DIRT. (Dirt??) Enough dirt to load up two mules with it - so he could carry it back to Aram with him. Why in the world - ??
He wanted it because he wanted to use it as a reminder, possibly as a base to create an altar back in Aram to worship this God, and NO OTHER god, for the rest of his life. As I was reading the story, I noticed that he even asked forgiveness from God (through the prophet) in advance for his duty to fulfill a ceremonial function in the line of his work: having to accompany his boss to the temple of his former gods - having to bow his head when the king of Aram worshiped. He wanted there to be no mistake - his heart belonged to his new God and to Him alone.
This new God had gotten under his armor.... under his physical armor and under his intellectual armor. This God had touched his heart, had proven His power, had ripped away his prejudices and his objections in a simple, miraculous act of generosity.
He would never be the same.
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