12 February 2006

"Healing Naaman" - Sermon for 12 February 2006, the 6th Sunday after Epiphany

Preaching Text: II Kings 5.1-19


At the funeral for Coretta Scott King this past week, President Bill Clinton remarked, “I don’t want us to forget that there’s a woman in [that casket]…not a symbol – a real woman who lived and breathed and got angry and got hurt and had dreams and disappointments. And I don’t want us to forget that.” His point was that we should never make the mistake of seeing an image rather than a person; that all people, regardless of their position or their history are, in the end, just people. People with problems. People with success stories. People who struggle. People who can rest easy. People who need people… :-)

Naaman was a person – a man of great renown. But Naaman is not remembered for his splendid battle plans, his long list of military campaigns, or his prowess as a general of fighting men. Naaman is remembered for far different reasons – and you and I will someday be remembered for the same reasons. Let us pray.

Loving Father, you healed your servant Naaman in a way and for a reason completely different than he expected. You intruded on his life and chose to save him from himself and from his illness. We pray for the same intrusion in our own lives – for the same healing – for the same salvation. In Jesus’ name we come to you today – come and heal us. Amen.

In the Hebrew language there’s a bit of punctuation called an athnakh. You don’t need to remember that name – what you need to remember is what it does: it separates the phrases in a Hebrew sentence, and in often shows where the emphasis should lie. If you look at the insert in your bulletins this morning, you’ll see a visual aid I’ve cooked up for you. II Kings 5.1 is one sentence in Hebrew, the longest introduction in the Old Testament. At the top of the page, you’ll see that first verse diagrammed out for you; the athnakh is the pointed mark between the two phrases.

There are two main statements in II Kings 5.1: the first is that Naaman is a great general of the Aramean army. The second is that this mighty warrior has leprosy. One of these things is a huge problem for Naaman; which do you think is the problem?

We often assume that Naaman’s skin disease was the problem. But a careful, open reading of this story shows us that Naaman had far greater problems than leprosy, and the healing of his body was not the great miracle of the story.

The first of Naaman’s problems was his fame. If you look at your visual aid again, imagine that the athnakh is the balancing point of a teeter-totter and all of the phrases are ten-pound weights. Which side would be heavier? The fame & victory side, of course, and it is this fame that is the far greater problem for Naaman. Anyone with a subscription to Sports Illustrated or the Star Tribune can tell you what fame does to us – it skews our perspective until we begin to believe the hype and we begin to think that the world really DOES revolve around us. Naaman was no different than any of us – he was so successful that it had begun to mess with his head and with his heart.

The second of Naaman’s problems was the fact that God had started messing around in Naaman’s life. For reasons the writers of the Bible don’t tell us, God gave victory to Aram (Syria) through Naaman. Not only that, but Naaman had taken Israelite girls for slaves on one of his raids in Israel. I suppose the stories of what had happened to Egypt with their Israelite slaves hadn’t reached Aram yet. At any rate, God had been using Naaman to accomplish something, and God continued to mess in Naaman’s life even after Naaman had won great victories for Aram with God’s help.

Another problem for Naaman was the people to whom he looked for help. Notice that the first person to offer Naaman help is his wife’s servant girl, the one he had taken from Israel. The servant girl suggests that Naaman should go to the prophet in Israel. But the first person to whom Naaman looks for help is his king. The king of Aram sends Naaman to the king of Israel, and the merry-go-round of fame continues to twirl.

Here we have an interesting situation: two kings talking to each other about a man with leprosy that neither one can heal. The king of Aram has been defeating the armies of Israel with Naaman as his great general – now this general has come to the king of Israel to be cleansed of a disease that makes him ritually unclean and an outcast everywhere he goes. Oh, and this general has rolled through the countryside with 750 pounds of silver, 240 pounds of gold, and at least ten full sets of clothing. This is a treasure with an estimated value in 2005 of $700,000. Said treasure is rolling through the countryside on the chariots that have been rolling through the Israelite armies for the past few years. The message to the helpless king of Israel is simple: heal him and get a nice tidy little sum - don’t heal him and we’ll dump the treasure, wipe out your army, and then go home. The problem is that the king of Israel can’t heal Naaman – only the prophet Elisha can do that, as the servant girl clearly said all the way back in Damascus.

Thankfully, God continues to mess around in Naaman’s life. Elisha sends a message to the king: “Send Naaman to me, so that he may learn there’s a prophet in Israel.” It’s here that I always want to add, “By the way, Mr. King, you might want to try remembering this yourself next time.” It seems that everyone knows there's a king in Israel – but that knowledge isn't useful, helpful or even relevant at this point: Naaman was sent to a prophet, not a king. At any rate, Naaman goes to Elisha, and the healing of Naaman begins.

We might want to recall at this point that the function of a prophet isn’t telling the future – a prophet is the voice of God calling God’s people home. Prophets remind people that they have a God who has plans for us, as Jeremiah says, “plans for [our] welfare and not for harm, to give [us] a future with hope.”[1] Naaman didn’t know the God of Israel, but the God of Israel was determined to have Naaman, and so God sent Naaman to the prophet Elisha to be called home.

Naaman, however, was going to be a hard one to catch. Naaman, you see, still thought his problem was leprosy. Naaman thought that the prophet was primarily concerned with healing his body. Naaman thought that his great fame would bring the prophet running. And Naaman thought wrong.

Look at your bulletin insert again. Even though "Naaman's problem" is the only one of the three that appears in the actual Hebrew text, the principle remains the same. "Naaman's Miracle" asks us which was the greater miracle: Naaman's healed body, or Naaman's healed pride? See for yourself.

What Elisha did to Naaman is beautifully provocative. Elisha sent a messenger with a prescription: “Go wash in the Jordan seven times and you will be clean.” The Jordan really is a dirty, smelly trickle compared to the rivers of Damascus. And Naaman, the great and mighty general, had just travelled across Israel with all his horses and chariots to be met by a prophet’s errand boy. The first step to healing Naaman’s pride was been taken even before Naaman’s leprosy becomes an issue.

Naaman, of course, was furious. In Naaman’s experience, prophets and magicians were servants to the rich and mighty. They were order-takers, not order-givers. What Naaman didn't know is that the prophets of God in Israel had a tendency to work against the rich and mighty, or at least to be thorns in the sides of the rich and mighty. Elisha was following in the footsteps of Samuel, Nathan, and his own teacher Elijah by challenging the powerful to see that the limits of their power were more easily reached than they might have thought.

Once again, it was the servant that came to the rescue. The people of great power in Naaman’s life all deserted him: the king of Aram was miles away, the king of Israel couldn’t help him, and the prophet wouldn’t meet with him, but Naaman’s servants remained faithful. The powerful and mighty were helpless, but the servants were the movers and shakers of Naaman’s life. “Why not try it?” suggested the servant – and Naaman’s life was changed forever.

In the healing of his body, Naaman was also beginning to be healed in his soul. The pride that made Naaman offended by Elisha's indifferent prescription was washed away in the Jordan with his leprosy. The far greater burden of Naaman's hard heart was healed when Naaman listened to the advice of his servants and allowed himself to be healed by God's mercy and grace. Naaman wasn't the only leper in Israel on that day, but for reasons we still don't understand, God chose to heal Naaman, the great general of an enemy army. The only thing we can say with certainty is that God wanted to heal Naaman's body and capture Naaman's heart in faith – and God accomplished both.

We know that Naaman's heart was the greater prize because of the actions of the prophet. Elisha couldn't be bothered to attend to Naaman's leprosy, but when Naaman came to make a confession of his newfound faith in the God of Israel, Elisha received him and his entire army. When Naaman said that "there is no God in all the earth except in Israel," Elisha knew that Naaman's heart was God's prize all along, that God had freed Naaman from his leprosy in order to free him of the greater burden of misplaced faith in his own accomplishments. Thus Elisha receives the general's confession.

Naaman has one last problem to address: all that treasure. Remember, he had the 750 pounds of silver, 240 pounds of gold and ten sets of clothes to give away – wouldn't this prophet be ever so pleased with such a gift? Wouldn't Naaman's newfound God be honored if Naaman gave such a gift? In a word, NO! The payment of far greater worth for Naaman, Elisha and God would be the faith of Naaman, who must return to a pagan kingdom and support the rule of a pagan king! Elisha accepts no payment but faith, even if that faith must hide under the duties of political power – Naaman's heart and faith belong to God, even if his responsibilities as a general might suggest otherwise. Naaman is asking God's forgiveness in advance for being a good friend to a king that he loves; and God, who has chosen Naaman and will have no one else, permits this one request. Now that God has Naaman's faith, there is no other treasure that can compare.

Finally we see that underneath all the armor, "there's a man in there!" Naaman, like Coretta Scott King, was just a person – "a real [man] who lived and breathed and got angry and got hurt and had dreams and disappointments." And so are we. Like Naaman, we are captured as much by our dreams and accomplishments as we are by our nightmares and disappointments. Like Naaman, we often think that if we can just rid ourselves of our weaknesses and burdens, we'll live a better life, when in actuality our strengths and our weaknesses are all burdens to be carried and dangers against which we must constantly be on guard. Like Naaman, you probably don't know why God chose you – but here's the great miracle: God has chosen you, and the greatest miracle God can give you is the healing of your hardened heart – the faith that tells you that there is no God on earth except for this God who heals you. A leper came to Jesus once and said, "If you choose, you can heal me," and Jesus did exactly that. But the greater miracle for that leper, for Naaman, for millions throughout our history and for us today, is that God chooses to capture our hearts in order that we might believe. Amen.



[1] Jeremiah 29.11

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