It’s incredible. Truly remarkable. That I should look this good, after all I have been through. Maybe you wouldn’t understand. You did not see what I looked like only yesterday. Leprosy! I had leprosy! Great scabs on my skin. Whitish blotches here and there. Horrible sores, everywhere. Misery!
Everyone stayed clear of me. They were afraid they might get the disease too. I heard them, believe me. I heard them whisper, “Naaman the captain, look at him now. He used to command thousands of soldiers, but Naaman cannot command leprosy to go away.” They thought that I did not hear them or feel their stares, but I did. I caught them looking at me and pitying me.
But just look at me now. Whole and complete. Cleansed! I must never fail to thank the God of Israel, who has done this, and Elisha His prophet, who helped me. Nor must I forget that in my pride I almost turned away from healing. I almost missed the blessing that the God of Israel wanted to give me. Blessed be His name, forever and ever! He is a cleansing God, and His gifts are freely given, to anyone! That I learned, the hard way. I almost missed the blessing.
Let me tell you my story. Let me tell you of my sickness and of my friends, of a little servant girl and of a faithful wife, a haughty king and a mighty prophet. And let me tell you, too, of a man who had everything already, but who didn’t even know it, and wanted more. Let me tell you how it all happened.
First, you should know that I am Naaman, the commander of the armies of Aram. Our king trusted me with all of our military efforts. We were mighty in battle. Under my leadership, we destroyed Edom, we smashed Moab, we made Judah shudder. The greatest of all our conquests was that of Israel. It is not just that the little kingdom with its capital in Samaria and its meddlesome monarch, Ahab, was so powerful. It is not even that we relished a chance to embarrass Ahab’s vicious queen, Jezebel. It is rather that we captured one little servant girl, who made all the difference, in the end.
One little servant girl? You say that is not much bounty for a costly and blood-letting battle? No, it didn’t seem worth it at the time. I just grabbed her out of a village in the north of Israel because I thought my wife might like to have a slave girl around. Little did I know that that one small no-name girl would be the path to everything I needed. Little did I see that the God of Israel, whom I supposed was no different from Aram’s god, Rimmon, was alive and would use this pretty bauble.
You see, I have told you that I had leprosy. It was horrible. I had tried everything to cure it. But nothing seemed to work. I scratched, I used ointments, I went to every doctor in Damascus. You would not believe some of the things they had me do. I scrubbed my arms with lye soap; but they just got red and raw and hurt beyond belief. I drank the potion of bitter roots, even though it felt as though it was burning up my throat on the way down, and all that got me was a belly churning like the waves of the ocean! I have tried everything, everything, I tell you, and nothing works.
My wife began to complain, on top of everything else. She insisted I try the king’s magician. What was it he suggested? Standing under the full moon for ten nights and days, smeared in lamb’s grease and wearing the skin of a freshly killed lion! What a bunch of nonsense! I’d almost rather be sick than to do that! I had to come up with something better than that! No, I told her I’d just take what I have and live with it before I’ll do something that stupid!
But my wife would not give up. They don’t give up easily, you know! I guess I made her miserable, with all my groaning and moaning. And, to tell the truth, I’m sure she did not appreciate being shunned by all the ladies at court. They were afraid she had leprosy too, and that if they so much as came close, they might get it. She groped around for any kind of answer. And found it, too, found it, in the advice of the little Israelite slave girl.
The girl told my wife that back home in Israel she knew a man who could heal. His name was Elisha. He was one of their God’s prophets. She claimed to have seen him heal all sorts of diseases. Even leprosy.
Well, I thought, this is very interesting. You wouldn’t expect it, maybe, but when my wife came, with the girl, to tell me about Elisha the prophet, I knew what they were talking about. I had seen these prophets before. They wander around, babbling about their God and begging money from anybody who will listen. Some sort of holy man. Back when I led my army into Israel, I had learned of this particular prophet, Elisha. Elisha had tried to keep King Ahab from fighting my army! It was this very prophet who told Ahab that it was not God’s will for him to invade Aram. But Ahab would not listen to the prophet, and so we won the battle. Or maybe, God won the battle. I used to say that I won the battle, but I am not so sure, anymore.
I did remember Elisha, that there was something about him ... something, well, mysterious. And so I agreed to ask permission from our king to go to Israel and seek healing, as long as healing did not involve full moons, lamb’s grease, or lion skins!
I must tell you that when I spoke with my king about going to Israel, he urged me to take plenty of money and lots of gifts. He reminded me that no one gives away anything that’s any good. If something is free, it’s worth nothing, and if it’s good, well, that you get what you pay for. I carried along silver, and gold, and fine clothing. Enough, I hoped, to placate King Ahab. And, most important, enough to persuade Elisha to heal me. If I had known then what I know now, I could have left it all at home. Who knew that so great a gift would come without money and without price?
A few days later I stood before Ahab in the royal palace of Samaria, presenting my king’s letter of introduction, and offering a few of my gifts. It was not a pleasant experience. I cannot understand how I got off on such a wrong footing with Ahab. Was there something wrong with my protocol? I greeted him as one should, “May the King of Israel prosper.” I brought greetings from his cousin, King in Damascus, Lord of the Arameans, Master of the Tigris and the Euphrates, son of the stars, and brother of the moon.” Ahab seemed most impatient with all of that, and eyed my treasure chests.
But then he read the letter: “When this letter reaches you, know that I have sent you my servant Naaman, that you may cure him of his leprosy” . He read the letter, and Ahab’s face grew red with anger. He ripped open his robes, and screamed out, “It’s a trick, it’s a trick. What is this? I can’t cure anybody of anything! Am I God, to give death or life, that this man sends word to me to cure a man of his leprosy? This is ridiculous! No! This is some sort of a trap!”
I thought all was lost, that I would have to return home with nothing, if indeed I got home at all. Who knows about these greedy kings? If Ahab were to know how much I really do have, if he knew of lands and houses and servants and money, he might hold me hostage. I was afraid. I remembered all too well what my king had said, that no one does you any good for nothing. They always want something in return. They will hurt you in a minute if they think you have something in your pocket. I retreated to a corner of the throne room, hoping that later in the day I would think of something that might change Ahab’s mind.
Well, unknown to me, someone had run off to find Elisha the prophet. I do not know who it was, or why he did it. But Elisha was told that there was an Aramean captain who wanted to see him. And just as the day was almost done and Ahab was preparing to clear the room and retire for dinner, in came a runner, with a message from Elisha. Ahab did not want to be bothered, but I got the feeling that Elisha was very popular with the people, and that Ahab could not safely ignore a message from the prophet. I trembled as I listened to Ahab mutter his way through Elisha’s message, “Let Naaman come to me, so that he may learn that there is a prophet in Israel.” Ahab glared at the message, then at the messenger, then at me, and, with a wave of his hand, growled, “Oh, all right, let him go to Elisha.”
We rode as quickly as we could, my horses pulling our chariots at breakneck speed over the rutted roads of Israel, till we came to a tiny village, and an even tinier house, where, we were told, lived the prophet Elisha. I sent one of my men to knock at his door, while I got together the gold, the silver, the fine clothing. I wondered just how much it would take. I had brought ten talents of gold; maybe I could get by with only five. And ten suits of fine clothing; people who live like Elisha does don’t know the value of that. Maybe three or four of our flashier garments would catch his eye. I piled up my payment and waited for Elisha to come out.
The door opened just a little, and a shadowy figure inside motioned for my man to come in. The hand attached to some dark body was raised up high, as if to stop anyone else from entering. And the door slammed shut.
We waited, and we waited, and we waited. It seemed half an eternity. I was growing very impatient. Will not Elisha come out here and talk with me, man to man?
The door opened just halfway, and my man came out, followed by a younger man, standing erect, with a wide smile on his face. A handsome and gifted young man, I thought; not what I expected in a prophet. But, to my astonishment, he was not the prophet, only the prophet’s servant. He told me that his name was Gehazi, and that he had a message from his master, Elisha. I nodded; it was all I could do to keep from screaming, the pain was so horrible and the itching so unbearable.
I could not believe my ears when Gehazi continued. He told me that Elisha wanted me to go down to the Jordan River and wash myself in it seven times. What foolishness! Wash in the Jordan River, that muddy little puddle? And where is Elisha? Why did he not come out to meet me himself? Did he not know who he was dealing with? Did he not know that you do not treat a man of rank this way? Seven times in the stinking Jordan, indeed! If I had wanted to bathe in a river, I could have done that at home. The rivers Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, are far finer than any of the rivers of Israel. Muddy mess!
So I admonished Gehazi. I reminded him that I was the commander of the armies of Aram, and that all I had to do was to call on a legion of soldiers, and Elisha would be history, and this tinhorn nation too. Gehazi just looked at me and said, “Elisha is not afraid of you. The Lord God of hosts fights for him.”
So I tried something else. I told Gehazi that I had expected that at the very least Elisha would be willing to come out and call on the name of his famous God and wave his hand over my leprosy. It seemed the least he could do. But I thought I knew what was wrong. They wanted money, didn’t they? I brought out some of my gifts and showed them to Gehazi. His face lit up. His eyes bulged out of their sockets. His breathing grew rapid. I had hit the spot! Yes, these people were like everybody else. They bartered God’s gifts. They wanted something before they would do anything for you. I knew it! I just knew it!
Gehazi hurried back inside the little house. He stayed and stayed. I could not imagine what took him so long. I was about to send my man to batter down the door, when it opened, and out came this handsome youngster again. His face was fallen. It looked as though he had been soundly defeated in some argument. I soon found out.
Gehazi reported that his master had said that the gifts of God are gifts. They are not bought and sold. The gift of God is free, it is of grace. You do not have to buy it. In fact, you cannot buy it. Just receive it. Freely receive it.
Gehazi told me all this and then sank down behind a fig tree, burying his chin in his hands. Clearly he was disappointed. And so was I. I had always been able to buy whatever I wanted. Just to be told that all I needed to do was to go to the waters and receive the gift of healing, without money and without price, well, that did not add up. I did not know what to do.
But one of my soldiers stepped up and pointed out something. He pointed out that I had done all sorts of ridiculous things to try to get rid of my leprosy. You remember, things involving full moons and bear grease and lion skins. Embarrassing things, painful things, costly things. But, he said, there really was nothing to this, this washing in the Jordan River. So why not give it a try? What could it hurt? At the least I would get wet, that’s all. At the least I would be able to go home and tell my wife and her servant girl that I had done what I promised to do.
All right. So I went to the river. Its waters were foul. Stagnant and dirty. Someone upstream had been using the Jordan for a cesspool. Nothing attractive about this. But, very well, I did it. Into the water I plunged: once, twice, three times ... it was nasty! But, no, it wasn’t really hard to do. Just pointless, or so I thought.
Four times, five times. I didn’t much like this, with everybody looking on. It felt like surrender. I surrendered my dignity and my pride. I surrendered my questions. As a soldier, I have never surrendered to any man, but now, to this little, inscrutable prophet; to this sweet but silly servant girl; and most of all, to their invisible, mysterious God, I surrendered all.
Six times, seven times. I could not believe it! It works! Look at this! See for yourself. Not a scab, not a scar. I am healed! The leprosy is gone! Completely gone! Here I am sixty years old, and my skin looks like a young boy’s! My legs too! And my chest! How about my face? It feels fresh and smooth! I was healed! I was healed! Glory! Glory, glory!
Oh, there is no God in all the earth like the God of Israel. I know nothing more of Him, but this I do know: once I was sick, but now I am healed. Once I was in pain, but now I am refreshed. Once I was without hope, but now I have life, and have it abundantly.
I hurried back to Elisha’s home. I wanted to show him. I wanted to thank him and to praise the name of his God. And, well, he had not asked payment. But surely he would accept a present. Surely a little gift.
When we knocked, this time an old man, slight of build and with long gray hair, came out of the house. I didn’t know where Gehazi was. But I knew this had to be Elisha himself. So I offered him payment. Something. Just name it. But can you imagine what Elisha said?! He said, “No, Naaman. The gift of God is free. It is of grace. I want no payment. It would be wrong for me to take payment. As the Lord lives, I will accept nothing. Go home, and go in peace. Just take back to your people the name of the God of Israel, and that will be payment enough. Just go in peace, Naaman. God’s name be praised.”
I didn’t understand. All my life I have had to pay, and pay handsomely, for anything I received. But Elisha and his God seemed to want nothing. I could only thank him, over and over. He may not have wanted my purse, but he did have my heart. That I can assure you. I am cleansed!
When I started home, my mind was full of the things I would tell my wife. I thought maybe some of the gifts I was carrying back I would give to her servant girl. Maybe at least she would take payment for what she did for me. But my reveries were interrupted, as I heard a familiar voice behind me. Someone was calling, “Naaman. Captain Naaman. Wait. Wait just a moment.”
I turned, and saw young Gehazi, rushing as fast as his strong legs would carry him. Something seemed to be very urgent. I climbed down from my chariot and asked Gehazi, “Is everything all right?”
Gehazi panted and puffed. “Money. Need money. Need money now.” I couldn’t understand him at first. Was he saying that Elisha had changed his mind? Why? How could that be?
When Gehazi caught his breath he told me that it just so happened that right after we left, two other prophets showed up on Elisha’s doorstep, and that Elisha didn’t have the resources to give them hospitality. I thought it seemed a little strange. And I did notice that Gehazi wouldn’t look me in the eye during all of this. He kept looking back over his shoulder, as if to worry that somebody might be catching up. Two other prophets? It takes money to feed two prophets? It seemed odd.
But I was grateful, I had the money, and so I counted out two talents worth of silver and two fine garments for Elisha’s guests, and sent Gehazi on his way, as I now go on mine. Oh! Look back there, toward the horizon. Gehazi is taking a side road. He is not going in the direction of Elisha’s village. I wonder why. I wonder if there really are two prophets who need hospitality. I wonder if Gehazi wants that money for himself. Can it be that a man who lives with Elisha and who sees the wonderful generosity of Elisha’s God .. can it be that a man who lives where grace abounds can want to keep good things for himself? Can it be that someone who is around God’s word and God’s work, day after day, still has not caught the vision of how free God’s cleansing is?
I hope not, for I know my healing is for God and for His glory, and that’s all. When God heals, that is a moment to give Him all the glory and praise, and to take nothing for yourself. God will bless those who are faithful to Him. They don’t have to push Him to do it. They don’t have to count the bottom line. They don’t have to measure out love as if it were in short supply. When God cleanses a heart or heals a life, that’s the time to rejoice that the free gift of God is life, abundant life. God has taken every burden, carried every loss, received every heavy heart, into Himself.
I’m sorry for Gehazi, if all he can do is to worry about what ministry costs. If all Gehazi can calculate is how much benefit he is going to get from doing ministry, then I am afraid he is the one who needs the healing. He is the one who is leprous. Gehazi is the one whose heart will never be lifted and whose burden will never be removed. I’m sorry about Gehazi, truly sorry, if he has seen what the Lord will do, but still does not rejoice. I am so sorry if Gehazi will be burdened all the days of his life, and he will go down to his grave twisted by selfishness and contorted by the price tag. I think Gehazi must now be the leper.
I only know that I came to the waters and there I was cleansed. I only know that God’s prophet asked me to do a simple thing, believe and trust, and my sickness was washed away. I only know that I could never pay for such a gift, were all the world mine to give. I only know that were the whole realm of nature mine, that were a present far too small. Love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all.
See, here is water. What would hinder you from being cleansed? What, except your own pride, would keep you away from this healing? What would make you deny this wonderful cleansing that saves from sin? What, except your own self-centered heart, would keep you from receiving the free gift of God’s love? See, here is water, cleansing water. Trust Him and receive!
