5 Naaman, commander of the army of the king of Aram, was a great man and in high favor with his master, because by him the Lord had given victory to Aram. The man, though a mighty warrior, suffered from leprosy. 2 Now the Arameans on one of their raids had taken a young girl captive from the land of Israel, and she served Naaman’s wife. 3 She said to her mistress, “If only my lord were with the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy.” 4 So Naaman went in and told his lord just what the girl from the land of Israel had said. 5 And the king of Aram said, “Go then, and I will send along a letter to the king of Israel.”
8 But when Elisha the man of God heard that the king of Israel had torn his clothes, he sent a message to the king, “Why have you torn your clothes? Let him come to me, that he may learn that there is a prophet in Israel.” 9 So Naaman came with his horses and chariots, and halted at the entrance of Elisha’s house. 10 Elisha sent a messenger to him, saying, “Go, wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored and you shall be clean.” 11 But Naaman became angry and went away, saying, “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! 12 Are not Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them, and be clean?” He turned and went away in a rage. 13 But his servants approached and said 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’?” 14 So he went down and immersed himself seven times in the Jordan, according to the word of the man of God; his flesh was restored like the flesh of a young boy, and he was clean.
II Kings 5:1-14, part of a story that continues to verse 27, relate the story of the healing of Naaman. Since only a few main characters are presented by name, the anonymity of the kings of Aram and Israel makes it impossible to attribute the story to a period in the life of Elisha. One motif of the story is that people of higher social status depend upon people of lower status. Naaman depends on counsel from his wife reporting information from an Israelite slave girl. The king of Aram depends on the king of Israel. The king of Israel depends on Elisha. Naaman depends on the advice of his servants and Elisha. Naaman’s healing and conversion to Yahwism combines both the emphasis on the extraordinary, characteristic of the Elijah-Elisha stories (1 Kings 16:29-2 Kings 13:21), and the theological concern for Israel’s neighbors characteristic of the Deuteronomic history, of which the story is a small part (cf 1 Kings 8).
The story of Naaman's healing by the prophet Elisha is one of several examples of the "foreigner-aided-by-Yahweh's-agent" type of tale found in the Hebrew Bible. Other examples include Abraham's healing of Abimelech's barren household (told by E in Genesis 20:17-18, the only occasion, significantly in this context, of the author calling Abraham a "prophet," v. 7). We also have two post-exilic tales, one of Joseph's protection of Egypt against famine (Genesis 41:37-57), and the other of Daniel's interpretation of Nebuchadnezzar's dream (Daniel 2:24-45). The characters that we find scattered throughout the plot of the Naaman story seem to lie at opposite ends of the power spectrum. On one end, there are two ruling kings, a great warrior/commander, and a respected prophet. On the other end, there are a captured slave girl and common servants of a powerful man. Yet as the story unfolds, those who are in a position of servitude constantly direct Naaman in the right direction. The lowest, least, and last make it possible for healing to take place. The story contrasts the hiddenness of the ways of God and the insignificance of the means that Yahweh employs. This story may have influenced the story of Moses.
Exodus 4:6-7 (NRSV)
6 Again, the Lord said to him, “Put your hand inside your cloak.” He put his hand into his cloak; and when he took it out, his hand was leprous, as white as snow. 7 Then God said, “Put your hand back into your cloak”—so he put his hand back into his cloak, and when he took it out, it was restored like the rest of his body—
Luke 4:27 refers to this story as an example of God's care for non-Israelites. Jesus refers to the healing of Naaman as an example of a foreigner's faith working wonders impossible among the chosen, but jejune, people. In the Lucan context, the reference is a judgment against the faithlessness of the Israelites. In Its original context, the story has a less negative connotation: It signifies God's care not only for the chosen people, but for outsiders as well, a theme found elsewhere in the Deuteronomic History, and articulated most eloquently in Solomon's great prayer of dedication of the Jerusalem temple (I Kings 8:30, 34, 36, 39, 50, and especially vv. 41-43).
We see the personal and pastoral side of the prophetic service of Elisha. Since Naaman was an official of Syria and was a righteous man, the Lord blessed him and Syria. The story emphasizes the hiddenness of the ways of the Lord and the and the insignificance of the means the Lord uses to accomplish those ways. Such ways of the Lord stand in sharp contrast to the Syrian king, who makes the entire matter an affair of the State. Naaman appears with his large contingent of soldiers and servants to the abode of the prophet, no doubt expecting to receive the honor due to him. Instead, Elisha sends out his servant with a message. Elisha refuses to comply with a miracle. He gives Naaman the option of learning obedience. The healing is almost incidental to the two interactions between Elisha and Naaman. After the healing, Naaman wants to take home some earth from Israel and to worship the Lord in Syria. The original readers of the story would be touched by the desire of this man to worship the God of Israel on foreign soil. He would have a sacramental attachment to the Lord through this earth. In asking to bow at the side of his king when he worshipped Rimmon back home, the original readers are in suspense, since they are well aware of the first of the ten commandments. Elisha has profound pastoral insight. He imposes no law upon Naaman. In inviting him to go in peace, Elisha is commending his future faith to the Lord. The initial response of the prophet to Naaman was harsh, but in the end he is generous. Naaman stands in sharp contrast to the greedy servant of Elisha, Gehazi.[1]
1Naaman (the Semitic root means “pleasantness” or “loveliness.”) was commander of the army of the king of Aram. From the time of Ahab of Israel (reigned 869-850 B.C.) until the death of Elisha some 50 years later, warfare characterized the interaction between the northern kingdom of Israel and its nearby neighbor, with only brief periods of peace (cf I Kings 20:1-34; 22:1-40; II Kings 1:1; 3:1-27; chapters 6-8, etc.). Israel once controlled Aram (II Samuel 8:3-6). Aram now poses an increasing threat to Israel, but it was the Lord who gave Aram victory over Israel. He was a great man and in high favor with his master, because by him the Lord had given victory to Aram. That the narrator attributes to Yahweh, the Israelites' own god, Aram's victory (over Israel?), should not be surprising in this context. The idea that Israel's fortunes and misfortunes alike came from Yahweh was a staple of Israelite theology (compare Deuteronomy 8:11-20), and in the present story the statement foreshadows Naaman's ultimate and most significant realization, that Yahweh is the only true God. The text views Naaman as a noble pagan, the Lord looking upon such just persons favorably and granting such a person success. The man, though a mighty warrior, suffered from leprosy (from lepra, the Septuagint's translation of the Hebrew word tsara`at). Naaman himself is the first character we meet. Yahweh lent aid to him and the Syrians, demonstrating the Yahweh is always looking out for the righteous and blesses them. Leprosy was not the kind that caused isolation. A skin disease was embarrassing. The term here translated as "leprosy" is a generic term that describes many skin disorders. In fact, it is doubtful that Naaman was suffering from that disfiguring, nerve-destroying leprosy we know today as "Hansen's Disease," for social rules have not barred him from any contacts or activities because of his condition. The range of the Hebrew word, which includes conditions affecting clothing (Leviticus 13:47) and buildings (Leviticus 14:34), makes it clear that the word denotes more than Hansen's disease, which is caused by the Mycobacterium leprae bacillus and affects humans exclusively. Naaman may have been suffering from, in addition to Hansen's disease, lupus erythematosus, psoriasis, smallpox, skin cancer, vitiligo or a nutritional deficiency such as pellagra.[2] The only other characters that are healed of leprosy in the Old Testament are Moses (who is both afflicted in an instant by God, and healed just as quickly in a display of divine power Exodus 4:6-7), and Miriam (whom Moses cures through prayer but who nonetheless must submit to a seven-day quarantine, Numbers 12:1-15). God strikes Azariah, also known as Uzziah, with leprosy but God does not heal him of the disease. He remained in quarantine in the royal precinct and his son ruled under his regency until his death after 52 years as king (II Kings 15:5; II Chronicles 26:16-23). This means that Naaman is only the fourth named character the Old Testament describes as a leper (four unnamed lepers appear in II Kings 7), and he is the only one whose condition the text does not describe as God directly inflicting it and healing it. In fact, however, ancient Israel did not treat leprosy per se. The victim simply shaved and burned his or her clothes and submitted to quarantine until the priests declared him clean (Numbers 5:2-3; Leviticus 13:1-14:3). Once the priest declared one clean, however, there was a very elaborate ritual to finalize the victim’s reentry into the community (Leviticus 14:3-32). The first stage in the ritual involved dipping a live bird, a scarlet string, some cedar wood, and some hyssop in a solution made from running water and the blood of a sacrificial bird. The priest sprinkles the victim of leprosy seven times and releases the live bird to go free (Leviticus 14:4-7). Following this first ritual, the one needing cleansing submitted to more shaving, burning of clothes, bathing and seven more ritual days of separation before the eighth day, on which a series of involved sacrifices of both animals and grain began. At one stage the former leper received anointing, and eventually the priest performed many of the same rituals on the leper’s house to cleanse it as well (Leviticus 14:8-57).
2 Now the Arameans on one of their raids had taken a young girl captive from the land of Israel, and she served Naaman’s wife. It is tempting at this point to stress the role of young people within the believing community as well. The Lord chose to make use an obscure person to offer help to the mighty Naaman. 3 She said to her mistress, “If only my lord were with the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy.” 4 So Naaman went in and told his lord just what the girl from the land of Israel had said. 5 And the king of Aram the king of Syria (Ben-Hadad although he is never mentioned by name in this account) said, “Go then, and I will send along a letter to the king of Israel.” The king turns what began as a private undertaking for a medical cure into a diplomatic mission.
The diplomatic gifts he bears to the Israelite king reflect Naaman's value to his sovereign. He went, taking with him ten talents 750 pounds of silver a talent is 130 lbs under Old Babylonian and 45 lbs in latest Jewish system, six thousand shekels of gold 150 pounds, and ten sets unknown quantity of garments of finished fabric. Although social convention would expect the recipient of prophetic services to offer some sort of gift as payment and/or an expression of gratitude, the magnitude of the Syrian king's presentation reflects a commercial orientation that the story will explore more fully in the epilogue to the healing account, Gehazi's graft and punishment (5:19b-27). 6 He brought the letter to the king of Israel, which read, “When this letter reaches you, know that I have sent to you my servant high officer of the king Naaman, that you may cure him of his leprosy.” 7 When the king of Israel read the letter, he tore his clothes and said, with frustrated, self-effacing words, “Am I God, to give death or life, that this man sends word to me to cure a man of his leprosy? In this story, the king of Israel is unaware of the healing powers of Elisha, although a little girl captured by the Arameans is. Just look and see how he is trying to pick a quarrel with me.” One interesting facet is the glimpse the text gives into the politics of the state in the ancient Near East. The king of Aram, hoping to expedite the quest of his great military commander, takes it upon himself to validate Naaman's unlikely mission with an official royal letter of request. No longer is Naaman's search for health at the mercy of a slave girl's knowledge or a mysterious prophet's whim. In that royal seal, it becomes an officially sanctioned matter of state importance. A closer look at the response patterns of the kings in this story, however, has prompted many scholars to see something else. While Elisha was no "in-your-face" threat to established authority, he nonetheless possessed a way of accessing the highest reaches of power that entirely bypassed the royal court. The reaction of the Israelite king to the king of Aram's request is one of ineffectual panic. The king is almost laughable. His inability to deal with Naaman and an opposing king's request demonstrates to readers that this Israelite king is a bad king. Despite the long salvation history of his people, despite the very recent testimony and action of the great prophet Elijah, despite the ongoing ministry of Elisha, this king of Israel never even thinks of turning to Yahweh or one of Yahweh's prophets for help. Possessing no healing powers himself, instead of looking for other authoritative figures that could offer healing (such as a prophet), the Israelite king turns Naaman's visit into an insidious attempt to "pick a quarrel," Aram's excuse to resume hostilities.
8 But when Elisha the man of God, whom the text places in subtle but sharp contrast with the Israelite king as one who had such healing power, heard that the king of Israel had torn his clothes, he sent a message to the king, “Why have you torn your clothes? Let him come to me, that he may learn that there is a prophet in Israel.” Throughout Elisha's prophetic ministry, his prophetic power has a simple message -- the message pronounced by both a young slave girl and Elisha himself. Although Elisha represents a powerful opposition to the king's inaction, it is an option that comes through the proper channels. Naaman’s problem is not a problem because a prophet is here. The contrast reflects the persistent hostility of the Deuteronomic theologians to the Israelite monarchy, which they viewed as an accommodation to an unnecessary evil (see I Samuel 8). We can see the essential healing account united with a literary and sociopolitical digression. The actions of both Naaman and the king of Syria -- Naaman's request to visit the prophet, the king's letter of introduction and gifts to the Israelite king -- emphasize civil and political actions. When the Israelite king -- Jehoram although he, like the king of Syria, remains nameless in this amplified miracle story -- misinterprets the Syrian king's actions, Elisha must save the encounter from collapse by abruptly intervening from a distance. 9 So Naaman came with his horses and chariots, and halted at the entrance of Elisha’s house. 10 Elisha sent a messenger to him, saying, “Go, wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored and you shall be clean.” The prescription of Elisha does not involve divine guidance or prayer. 11 But Naaman became angry and went away, saying, “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! He expected some magical incantation to heal him. This would be something he could understand. It would be under his control. What Elisha does is focus the issue on the willingness of Naaman to be obedient.[3] 12 Are not Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them, and be clean?” He turned and went away in a rage. The text shows the pride of Naaman when he is sick. In his pride, he had forgotten, like we so often do, that he was no different than others in their hour of need. He was the beggar, the sinner, the leper, the human, the needy. He was all of that. In the sight of the prophet and of God, there was zero about Naaman that distinguished him from other lepers. Now he was forced to bow in humility, and in that humiliation, he realized a truth that is so hard to accept. Like all of us, he needed help. He could not go it alone. He would have to accept Elisha’s help or go home a leper. He could be humbled and healed, or proud and leprous. He could go big and go home as a leper, or he could go small and go home, healed and whole. His call. 13 But his servants approached and said 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’?” 14 So he went down and immersed himself seven times in the Jordan, according to the word of the man of God; his flesh was restored like the flesh of a young boy, and he was clean. This description of purity is found nowhere else in the Bible. It is possible that the comparison is meant to reinforce the ongoing contrast between elders, who are supposed to know what they are doing, and the (young) servants, who seem to have a better grasp of the situation. He no longer had leprosy. The text shows the humility of Naaman upon receiving healing through the simple and humble act the prophet commanded. He learns that a little humility goes a long way. The true path to humility is to stand at your real height, in all your strength, but to do so against something greater, thereby disclosing the smallness of your greatness.[4]
During the Revolutionary War, a group of Continental Army soldiers was struggling to lift a heavy log. It was plainly too heavy for them, but their corporal just stood by, barking orders, and getting red in the face. At that moment, a man rode up on horseback. The stranger looked the situation over for a second, then dismounted and walked over to help. With a great heave-ho, they all picked up the log and moved it to where it belonged. The stranger turned to the corporal and asked why he had not been helping. "Sir," the officer replied, "do you not see that I am the corporal?" At that point, George Washington opened his coat, revealing his general's insignia. "Yes, sir, I see that you are the corporal," he said, "but I want you to see that I am the general." General Washington taught the corporal a lesson that day: a lesson in humility.
Sometimes and for some people, the experience of coming to faith is the experience narrated in Naaman’s story. Take, for example, author Anne Lamott. In her book, Traveling Mercies, Lamott tells her story of coming to faith. Not unlike Naaman, Lamott had grown up in a family with many of the signs of power and prestige. Her parents taught her to be responsible and to give help, but not to receive help. "I was raised by my parents to believe that you had a moral obligation to try to save the world," she said. However, there was another side to this noble aspiration. "God forbid that someone should ever think I needed help. I was a Lamott - Lamotts give help." However, in time Anne Lamott, like many of us, discovered that she did need help, big time. Drug and alcohol abuse were both cause and symptom of a life in disarray. Though her family had no religious connection or background, she had long felt drawn to church, to faith, to God. A prospect she found "appalling."
I thought about my life and my brilliant hilarious progressive friends, I thought about what everyone would think of me if I became a Christian, and it seemed an utterly impossible thing that simply could not be allowed to happen. I turned to the wall and said out loud, "I would rather die." ...One week later, when I went back to church, I was so hungover that I couldn't stand up for the songs, and this time I stayed for the sermon, which I just thought was so ridiculous, like someone trying to convince me of the existence of extraterrestrials, but the last song was so deep and raw and pure that I could not escape. It was as if the people were singing in between the notes, weeping and joyful at the same time, and I felt like their voices or something was rocking me in its bosom, holding me like a scared kid, and I opened up to the feeling - and it washed over me.[5]
For Anne Lamott it was an end and a beginning. It was the end of life without God, the end of a life of self-destructive behaviors. It was the beginning of a new life with God, the beginning of life held in the love of a particular congregation. How interesting that she describes it as something that "washed over me." Sounds like Namaan at the Jordan. Sounds like baptism.
God seems to work through simple things and unimpressive things. We discover this pattern frequently in our lives. Simple things, like sitting on a log and examining the flowers and creeping things around it, can become life-changing experiences as they help us appreciate the beauty that surrounds us. In literature, think of Silas Marner, where the miser, who lost his gold and was miserable until he spied the golden hair of a tiny little girl. Then love burst forth in his heart. Think of Les Miserables, where a violent criminal tears his way off a prison ship, robs a kindly bishop, sets out to escape the law, only to encounter a lonely and unhappy little child, Cosette, in a forest. As he became a kind and loving protector, his life changed. God approaches us through the simple things – even such things as failures and losses. People who are constantly straining for some distant goal and in the process are too busy for the little facets of life succumb at last to stress and happiness eludes them. How wise we are when we rearrange our lives to make room for periods of reflection and contemplation. The unexamined life is not worth living.
[1]
[2] (Hector Avalos, Illness and Health Care in the Ancient Near East [Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1995], 311-316).
[3]
[4] Phillips Brooks
[5] (Anne Lamott, Traveling Mercies [New York: Pantheon Books, 1999], pp. 49-50.)
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