Naaman The Syrian Leper

Naaman the Syrian Leper

2 Kings 5:1-14

Karl Evans

Everyone has their own heroes. Men and woman, past and present, offer themselves as models for greatness in life. Some are heroic as they overcome terrible forces stacked against them. Some stand out as ethical and moral lighthouses for the troubled seas of life.

Naaman is one of my own personal heroes. It is not that he was such a brave man. I am sure he was a military genius. He may have been very faithful to the Syrian gods, and even to his own culture.

Rather than these, though, Naaman had a very serious personal problem. His skin was the problem. This was not a race thing, or ethnic. Naaman’s skin problem was the several splotches of unusual colors on his skin.

No one knew what manner of leprosy this was. In fact, no one even guessed these patches of blue and purple and red skin might not even be the disease we now know as Hansen’s Disease. They might have been birthmarks, or psoriasis, or even a skin cancer.

But this did not matter. Society treated all these as the same malady. Any continuing skin blemish was simply leprosy. Any leprosy was the result of any of a few problems.

It could be a simple matter of faithlessness. Perhaps the Syrian god is angry at Naaman for some sin of his ancestors. Naaman may have accidentally knocked over an icon during a visit to a temple in rural Syria.

Naaman’s leprosy may have stemmed from the curse of a witch during a campaign in India, or China, or Greece. So many possibilities. But it really did not matter. Naaman had a disease. He was unclean before the Syrian god.

Naaman was fortunate, though. He was the leader of the Syrian army. We can assume that his skin problems arose late in life. He had probably already found his way to the top of the leadership pyramid, or close to it. At the very least, he was able to hide his blemishes from those around him until he neared the apex of the leadership councils of the Syrians.

If Naaman had shown any weakness, he would have been destroyed. In highly competitive industries, such as military and religious organizations, even a minor weakness is a death sentence. Men who would take lives of royalty without hesitation could surely sink a knife into the heart of a lowly army private who displayed marks of leprosy.

But the commander of the nation’s armies! That was different. Every commander had a guard company around him to protect him from his personal and corporate enemies. These men would risk their own lives to protect their leader from assassination plots and long knives. Even should an assassin make it through the defensive cordon, that assassin would be dead in moments.

But only someone in Naaman’s position could afford that protection. Many men had to gather around him constantly to give him that shield.

But even this armor was not enough for Naaman. This mighty military leader, the man saluted by the whole Syrian army, wanted only one thing desperately. One thing brought him to tears as he climbed into bed every night.

It was his skin. Naaman wanted nothing so much as he wanted rid of those angry red, blue and purple marks on his skin. Oh! To be able to shed his shirt and throw himself into the river with the lowest of his soldiers when they took their bivouac in strange lands. But such was not to be.
So Namaan could only protect himself from the evil-doers of his men.

Now it happened one day that Naaman and his army defeated an army that included mercenaries from many countries. Early in the morning as the dew began to settle on the bodies of slain soldiers, not yet buried, Naaman walked around the battlefield. His walk allowed him to survey the ragged remains of both armies.

Namaan’s own army was in pretty good shape. It had been a vastly superior force on the field. The survivors of the defeated army could only bow or salute as he walked by with his guard. These survivors included a young girl, child bride of one of the now-dead mercenaries.

As Naaman approached her and the body of her young husband, the girl, Qila, did a most unexpected thing. Qila rose from preparing the body of her man for burial. She calmly stepped directly into the path of Naaman and his guards. The armored men, alert for any hostile action from the defeated army, quickly drew their swords and leveled their spears for action against a single, widowed, unarmed fifteen year old Samarian girl.

Naaman’s face showed his puzzlement over her intent, but then he gestured for his troops to lower their weapons. As they did, she cooly walked toward him with her hands open in front of her. She came close, then stopped a few feet away. Naaman spoke first.

"Tell me, girl, why you risk death by stopping me from my walk. You know I need no excuse to have you killed. But you are young and beautiful. I need to bring to my wife a present from this war. That present will be you. You can come to my home, and serve my wife. You will spend your days making my wife more beautiful.

Qila answered slowly, but with certainty in her voice. "Sir, my God knows you are an honorable man. You have been gracious and compassionate in your victories. That is very good. I am content."

So Naaman brought Qila home with him to Damascus as a present for his wife. She immediately began her duties in Naaman’s household. Early in the next morning Qila helped Naaman’s wife with her bath. Presently she spoke openly with her mistress.

"Your husband’s body bears the marks of disease. It is a disease that keeps you both awake at night. This disease even divides you from your family. It is a terrible burden for you."

"Because he is compassionate with God’s people, my God wishes him to be healed of this disease. If only my lord would visit the prophet Elisha who is in Samaria! The great god of the Hebrews will cure my lord of his leprosy!"

Naaman spoke to his king about the girl, asking permission to visit Elisha. Naaman’s king sent the king of Israel appropriate gifts, along with a letter of introduction. The letter told of Naaman’s disease, and the promise of the young Samarian girl.

The king of Israel nearly panicked. "Am I a god, able to give life or death? This mighty king sends word to me to cure a man of his leprosy? I believe he is trying to start a quarrel with me."
But Elisha heard about the message, and how the king of Israel panicked at being asked to heal in the name of the Lord of the Universe. Elisha asked that Naaman be brought to him.

Naaman came with his horses and his chariots and his armed guard. They rode up in a great charge and wheeled to a stop in front of Naaman’s house. It was only a little distance from the River Jordan. The horses panted and pranced in the hot desert air as Naaman approached the prophet of the Lord. He sat before Elisha and handed the letter to the prophet.

Elisha read the letter from Naaman’s king. He thought briefly, as if in deep prayer. Then he spoke. "Go to the river Jordan. It is very close. It is the river of the Lord. Wash in it seven times, dipping your whole body in it seven times. When you have done this, your flesh shall be restored and you shall be clean. You will be clean when you come out of the water of the Lord of Israel."

Naaman jumped to his feet in anger, stomping back to his chariot. "I thought that at least for me he would surely stand and call on the name of the Lord his God. I thought he would wave his hand over the spot, and cure the leprosy!"

"We have rivers in Damascus, too, you know. We have the Abana and the Pharpar. Surely these are better than the waters of Israel. They are clean, and fresh. I have bathed before in the great waters of Damascus. Could I not wash in them again, and be clean? Is this country hick prophet saying that his god is stronger than our god? It can not be so!" Naaman stormed with rage at Elisha. His rage shook him so badly the beads of sweat flew from his neck and his nose.

But Naaman had been a very astute man at a good time. He had picked good and wise servants. One of them spoke to Naaman the Syrian hero. "Sir, if the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it? Of course you would have. So all he said to you was, ‘Wash, and be clean!’ "

Well, you should known that Naaman was still pretty smart. He knew when someone was talking sense to him. So Naaman went down to the River Jordan, just a little distance away. He did not have to wait until he came home to Damascus. He only went to the Jordan, a few feet away.

At the Jordan, Naaman dipped himself in the water seven times. This was what Elisha said he must do. Seven times.

Then Naaman’s flesh was restored like the flesh of a young boy. He was clean at last.
Naaman did what the Lord asked. He went to the closest water, dipped himself in it seven times, and was healed. It was an act of faith.