The gentile, heathen, Syrian- Captain Naaman wanted desperately to be healed of his leprosy. Given hope by a young girl taken captive from Israel that there was in Israel a man who could heal him, Naaman jumped at the chance. The King of Syria also wanted his amazing captain to be healed. The man was an asset to him except for leprosy that would ultimately keep him from doing his job. A letter from one king to another desiring help. However, the receiving king thought he was being asked the impossible, to heal someone of leprosy?! Impossible! This was a ploy, a set-up, he was being manipulated into what would be a war and already the Syrian army had taken Israeli captives from his land. Distraught the Israeli king was at a loss, he didn't know what to do. The word spread quickly and the prophet, Elisha stepped up. He would show the power of God to this disease-ridden, idol worshiping, enemy captain.
Relief filled Captain Naaman when he heard the news! Could it be true? Had his slave girl- captured from Israel- truly led him to a path of healing? He'd do anything to be healed, the alternative was a slow death as leprosy ate away at his flesh and incapacitated him, forcing him from life as he knew it and into a camp of diseased people such as himself. Surely he would go before this healing man and the healer would perform his elaborate ritual of healing. Isn't that what healers were supposed to do? All the supposed healers, soothsayers, and the like of his land, of his religion, put on great shows with their magic god-given powers. Unfortunately, they had yet to find a prophet, healer, soothsayer from their own religion that would heal him.
Sent for, he arrived at the home of the healing prophet who worshiped the one God, the unnamed God, the supposed God of all gods. Oh, yes, Naaman knew of the religion of these people. He studied history, he knew their backstory. Naaman was familiar with their temple worship dedicated to the one God, he knew all about their sacrifices to one God. He knew they had been captives of Egypt at one point and their God supposedly freed them by great miracles and brought them into occupied land, and enabled them to conquer the land He'd chosen for them. The kings- Saul, David, Solomon… oh, yes, Naaman knew of these famous kings of Israel and he also knew of the divided kingdom history, that's what you did as a good captain, a successful captain of an enemy army you studied and knew your enemies. There was no secret about the God of these people, and Naaman had nothing to do with Him, why would he? He wasn't Israeli and he was raised to worship is own particular god, Rimmon, otherwise known as Baal. To have to go to a prophet of another god was disappointing but obviously necessary. Hadn't his own king sent him to this land to be healed because there were no healing prophets of his own god in his own land?
Hope flared deep inside Naaman as he and his treasure-laden entourage arrived at Elisha's home. What would the prophet ask of Him? Would he have to undergo elaborate and intricate ceremonies? Would he need to be brave in the face of being asked to do something out of the ordinary? Did this prophet want of him a blood sacrifice? It wasn't uncommon to sacrifice humans to gods, though Naaman had never heard of this as common practice for this particular God. He like animal sacrifices, well, Naaman had animals with him for such things, or enough money and goods to buy anything he might need for this very special healing ritual to take place. Ready for anything, Naaman approached the house and after announcing his presence he expected to be shown into the prophet's home, but that didn't happen. Perplexed, as a servant of the prophet stood before him, Naaman's brow furrowed deeply. What kind of trickery was this?! Where was the prophet?! He'd been told the prophet would heal him and the prophet wasn't even inviting him into his home?! Why was this lowly servant speaking to him other than to show him the deference he deserved while leading him to the master of the house? This wasn't right, this wasn't how it was supposed to be done. Where was the respect he deserved?
The servant was only following the orders of his master and relaying the message given to him for the captain.
"My master said you are to go to the River Jordon and wash in the water there seven times and your flesh will return to normal and you will be clean."
Fury filled Naaman instantly. Wash in a filthy river?! What kind of sick joke was this?! Where was the prophet? Why wasn't he out there to meet him? Why hadn't he invited him inside? Why wasn't the healing ceremony being undertaken? Did he think him a fool that he would go into his filthy Israeli river not just once but seven times?! Would he have spies, or lay in hiding somewhere to watch him make a fool of himself by listening to such idiotic instructions? No! Naaman would not be made a fool of! He would not be dismissed by a messenger and sent on a fool's errand designed to humiliate him and not heal him. This wasn't the way you healed someone, it just wasn't! Where were the spices, the special herbs, the waving thrushes, the sacrifices and possibly painful tasks for him to undergo to appease the god being called on to heal him? Surely he at least deserved the prophet's presence and the prophet's grand gestures as he called on his God on Naaman's behalf! Wash in a river, this was lunacy. There were much better rivers, cleaner and pure in his own land. If he were going to be healed in a river surely it would be in his lands superior rivers. Enraged completely he turned away to leave, to go back to his own home- a leper still. He would not be made a fool any more than he had been already.
Before he could get far though, a few of his own trusted servants stopped him. "Why not at least try what the prophet said to do, what do you have to lose? If he'd asked you to do something fanciful you wouldn't have hesitated and you know it, but he didn't. You should listen, it won't hurt you. We won't tell anyone about this if it fails. Isn't it actually a good thing he doesn't want you to suffer a blood-letting, or painful needles, or bites from leeches, or worse? This won't give you any pain at all except to your pride."
Such bold servants, but their words didn't fall on deaf ears. Captain Naaman's fury began to abate. The things they were saying were all true. He had nothing to lose at all by listening to the instructions. It wasn't as if the prophet told him to cut off his own arm in order to be healed. A rush of resignation filled him as the anger subsided. He'd do it, he'd go to that dirty river and follow the instructions of the prophet given to him by the man's servant. His own servants were right, who was going to know about all this? And even if they did find out, who would blame him for trying anything to be healed?
Relenting to his servants' pleas, Naaman started for the Jordan River. The entire way to the river his thoughts were filled with conflict. He felt anger and yet a small glimmer of hope allowed itself to take root. What if this were the proper way to be healed here in this land of the One God? What if the filthy, disease-ridden river water had some special power. No, it couldn't have the power of its own, that would be impossible. If the river were the source of healing people would fill it all the time with their sick. Kings would fight to own the river as much as anyone could own an entire river. Such a prize as a healing river would be famous, not completely unheard of. That's was the truth of the matter, wasn't it? This river was not known at all for any kind of healing. Yet still, if he were healed… did he dare allow himself that hope, maybe just a little bit? The skeptic in him was in the forefront and yet to go home without at least trying to be healed by this ludicrous means would also be foolish and he'd always wonder what might have happened had he listened to the healing prophet. Surely that little captive girl had no reason to deceive him, in fact, things would be quite dire for her should this prove to be a fool's errand. She was a nice young girl, perfectly suited to serve his wife. In fact, his wife had nothing but great things to say about her. The girl wanted to help him so to lie to him about a healing prophet wouldn't be in character. The girl had nothing to gain from a lie, nothing.
The Jordan River came into view and Naaman's heart twisted just a little bit with that hope he allowed. The disgust also rose up in his thoughts vying for the foremost spot. The war within the captain was visible in his expressions.
To be continued…. By the grace and the will of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
No comments:
Post a Comment