I have to admit that I don’t often preach from the Old Testament on Sunday mornings. But I was
taken with today’s reading from 2 Kings in a way that I felt I couldn’t ignore. The story of Naaman,
the powerful Syrian commander, and his bout with leprosy, is intriguing. This was a piece of history
very well known to Jesus, who used it to point out how God can pour out His mercy on those who
aren’t considered to be the chosen people, just as well as those who consider themselves to be the
chosen. Naaman was a Syrian, and not a Jew.

But what fascinated me most about this story is the way Naaman’s healing from leprosy unfolded. It
wasn’t a case of instant compliance answered by immediate healing. There was an interaction
beforehand that taught Naaman something very important, and I think it bears our attention.

This incident happened at a time when Israel apparently was subject to the nation of Syria. It was
probably late in the life of the prophet Elisha, perhaps around 800 BC.
What we can tell from the text is that Naaman was the highly acclaimed commander of King Aram’s
army. He was wealthy, and he had a skin disease. It’s called leprosy in the text, but there actually
were several different skin diseases of that time that went by the same name. In any case, these
kinds of skin diseases were usually cause for fear and loathing by others, and caused a great deal
of distress for the one who had it.

It was Naaman’s wife’s slave girl, an Israelite, who said to her mistress, “If only my lord were with the
prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy.” As is the case with many great and
proud men, the bright idea as to what to do next appears to have been passed to him by his wife.
For some reason the lectionary omits a couple of verses that explain how Naaman approaches King
Aram of Syria, who then dispatches him along with a letter to the king of Israel, who is the king whom
Elisha serves.

Are you following this so far? Naaman the Syrian hears of this guy in Israel who may be able to heal
his skin condition, and his king engages the good ol’ boy network to make connections with Elisha,
the Israelite prophet. And not only does Naaman begin his journey with the letter in hand, but he
also carries a good helping of valuables in the form of gold, silver and clothes. I think we can be
assured that these aren’t generic clothes, but, at the very least, Brooks Brothers or Armani. Naaman
is ready to pay richly for his healing.

But this is where it starts getting interesting. Naaman brings the letter to the Israelite king. It says,
basically, “Allow me to introduce you to my servant Naaman.         Please cure his leprosy. Signed,
Warmest and most attentive regards, Aram.”

After slapping himself in the forehead and muttering, “Oy, vey” The king tears his clothes in dismay,
thinking that a heavy responsibility is being laid on him for which he may have to answer. He says,
“Who in the dickens does he think I am? God? How am I supposed to cure his leprosy? King Aram’s
setting me up!”         [Tuton Revised Version]

Elisha the prophet hears about this and says, “Chill out, my king! [TRV again] This job’s not for you,
it’s for me. Naaman needs to find out that there really is a prophet in Israel.”
So Naaman packs all of his precious coins and designer clothes on his horses and chariots, and
sets out for Elisha’s house. But here’s where things take a bit of a left turn.

As Naaman arrives at Elisha’s gate, Elisha sends out one of his servants who says to Naaman, “Go,
wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh will be restored, and you’ll be clean.” …

Say what? Naaman’s standing upright on his chariot right there at Elisha’s gate waiting to greet the
great prophet and show him what he has for payment, and Elisha doesn’t even come out of the
house. Instead, this servant comes out and tells him to go dunk himself in the river seven times. It
kind of reminds of that scene in “The Wizard of Oz where Dorothy and her companions appear at
the gates of the Emerald City after incredible hardship, and are crisply told that they can’t see the
Wizard. Naaman is not happy.

Listen closely to what he says. He says, “I thought that for me he would surely come out, and stand
and call on the name of the Lord his God, and would wave his hand over the spot, and cure the
leprosy. And besides that, are not the rivers of Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better
than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them and be clean?”

Now, there are many times in this life when we think we know what’s best for us, or how God should
answer our prayers. For that matter, we may be strongly convinced that we know not only what’s
best for us, but for those around us as well. But that’s another matter. To use the modern
vernacular, Naaman feels “dissed.” For those of you not familiar with the modern vernacular, that’s
short for disrespected. As a war hero and his king’s military commander, he’s used to being treated
with deference. I’m sure he envisioned Elisha walking out respectfully, doing what he needed to do
to try to affect a healing, and then receiving his appropriate fee. This would be done with careful
diplomacy, since Israel was under the domination of Naaman’s king. That would be the seemly and
respectable thing to do. But through God’s guidance, this isn’t how Elisha does it. He sends a
servant out to tell Naaman to go bathe in the Jordan. Naaman’s thinking, “What is this? We have
better, more beautiful rivers in Damascus.”

Let’s consider Naaman’s plight for a moment. I wonder if any of us can relate a little bit to him here.
There are many different reasons why we might feel like we deserve a little better than this kind of
treatment. We’ve put in our time in this life serving the Lord; why don’t we get at least a little
respect? Have you ever felt that way? It may be that a prayer wasn’t answered as we felt it should
be. And we think, “God, after all I’ve done for you, is this one thing asking too much?” St. Teresa of
Avila was reported to have been overheard saying, “Lord, if this is how you treat your friends, it’s no
wonder you have so few of them!” [Even saints have bad days.] Or it may be that we feel ignored or
unheard by our friends in the church. Perhaps we’ve given deeply of our time and money, and then
we’re not recognized like we feel we should be.

There are several reasons we may feel this way. I think in Naaman’s case it was largely pride. He
was an important man who felt like he deserved the best. He was used to being treated as an
important person, and felt very slighted when he couldn’t even get an audience with the one through
whom healing was supposed to come.

There may be other reasons we feel like we deserve better. One has to do with how this world can
be pretty prickly at times. When we have one hurtful thing after another happen we may become
pretty defensive. We may even decide to start giving it out instead of just taking it. Think about
driving in Albuquerque. I had kind of a rough day on Monday. I had a little stomach event going on,
and decided to drive home and get some medicine. On the way, not once, but twice on Wyoming I
had people narrowly miss taking off my front bumper by cutting in right in front of me. I came close to
doing or saying something that would not go well with a “Hope Episcopal Church Welcomes You”
bumper sticker. I was thinking things like, “I give a lot to people, I try to help people whenever I can. I’
m a priest, for crying out loud! I deserve better than this!” Sometimes I even find myself blaming God
for things like this.

But you know what? Sometimes these things that upset us so much may actually happen for a
reason. Not that we deserve bad treatment, but that sometimes the things that make us feel
humiliated, or defensive, or even just hurt, can help point us toward some helpful truths, or at least
help us to grow in some way. I think this was true for Naaman. Let’s look and see what happens next.

After complaining about the fact that Elisha didn’t come out to see him, and the “What’s so special
about the Jordan” comment, the text says he turned and went away in a rage. But then something
interesting happens. His own servants approach him and say to him, “Father, if the prophet had
commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it? How much more, when all he
said to you was, ‘Wash, and be clean.’” OK? I know he didn’t make an appearance, but his
directions are really pretty easy.

At that moment, it looks like a light comes on for Naaman. After becoming enraged at dealing with
Elisha’s servant, his own servants give him a little word of truth. This time he hears it. He’s still not
exactly sure why the man-of-God’s instructions were as they were, but the simple truth of his
servants’ words impels him to obey anyway. He goes down to the Jordan, dips himself seven times,
and is cured.

Jesus once said, “Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be
exalted.” This really is the principle at play here. Naaman had to learn that, however hurt he might
have felt, the Lord had something important for him to learn.
Actually, in his case there were several important things to learn. He had to learn that the God of
Israel, and His chosen servants, were for real. That this is where he would find healing and
salvation. That these rather odd circumstances and instructions were from the Lord, and even that
the Jordan River is a special place which He uses to bring about Naaman’s healing. As an aside, I
have a friend from seminary who had chronic pain in his hip, and after being dunked in the Jordan,
was dramatically healed a few years back. God’s still at work there.

Naaman also had to learn that God’s ways aren’t necessarily his ways. That God sometimes brings
us on a path that will teach us something important about ourselves, rather than one in which our
own preferences or demands are catered to. Naaman successfully learned to trust some people who
held an inferior social station in that world. In response to God’s methods he humbled himself, and
was consequently “exalted” by being miraculously healed.

Fr. David Stenner, my Rector in Maryland, is fond of saying, “God is God, and I’m not.” In a nutshell,
this is what Naaman learned. When we’re dealing with God and His work, it’s not a bad idea to
remember the sign that was posted when all those musicians gathered a few years back to make the
“We Are the World” video: “Check your ego at the door.”

I’d like to conclude with one simple suggestion this morning. And I’m making this suggestion probably
more to myself than to anyone else. Next time we find ourselves in a situation in which we feel our
pride wounded, or we feel undervalued in some way, let’s ask ourselves, “What is the Lord trying to
teach me right now?” In fact, better yet, let’s ask the Lord, “What are you trying to teach me right
now?” And then let’s listen patiently and humbly for an answer. I’m confident that, if we do this
sincerely, we’ll get a gentle and helpful reply. And if we “humble ourselves in the sight of the Lord,”
just like He did with Naaman, He will lift us up.

In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

Amen
Naaman Goes to School
(2 Kings 5:1-15)
October 14, 2007
Fr. Dan Tuton
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