Humble Man, Bold Girl.

The Humility of Naaman and the Boldness of a Little Girl

When I was a young boy, about eight years old, I was on vacation with my Dad and brother in Nevada. One day we went to an amusement park. I was so excited. I put on my favorite shorts, they were black jean shorts with an American flag and a bald eagle on them. They were cool.

There were long lines at most of the rides, except for the log flume–there was no line there. So my dad brought me and my brother to the log flume, and the operator let us go repeatedly without the need to get off… because we were the only people in line.

We went down the ramp, around the bend, up and down, and then up, up, up, and DOWN–splash! It was a lot of fun. Water was rushing by and gushing up and over the sides of the log. We were having a blast.

After the third lap, I suddenly realized I needed to use the bathroom. I thought, “You’re a big boy, you got your cool American flag bald eagle black jean shorts on, you’ve got this… you can hold it in.” So I don’t say anything, and when we pull up to the operator, he asks if we want to go again, and I greedily say, “Yes!”

Down and around and up and down and up, up, up and DOWN—splash! I squeezed my legs together. There’s no way I could make it for another lap. I needed to get off the ride and fast. I tapped my Dad on the shoulder, “Dad, I gotta go to the bathroom.”

“It’s okay. You can hold it. Let’s just go one more time.” he said. I wanted to believe that was true. I wanted my Dad to see me as a big boy, a man!

“Okay, I can hold it… I hope.”

And so we went down around and up and down, and up, up, up and DOWN… I couldn’t hold it. Maybe you’ve been in situations where you thought you could do something you couldn’t do. Maybe you’ve thought highly of yourself only to be humbled by someone or something. That feeling when we think we’re wiser than we are is called pride. And God has a funny way of helping us with that particular issue.

Our text this morning is from second Kings, chapter five. If you’re familiar with your Bible, then you know first and second Kings come right after first and second Samuel. The book of Kings shows us what led to the Babylonian captivity and how God allowed other nations to rise against Israel. The nation of Israel was divided, and many were not worshipping God. 

Elisha is the prophet of Israel. He was a student, protege, and successor of Elijah. He performed many amazing miracles for the glory of God. Word of these works began to spread far and wide. Other nations heard of the unbelievable things Elisha did through the power God gave him.

One of those people who heard about these miracles was Naaman. The Bible tells us that Naaman was a mighty man. Only a few people were given that distinction. Gideon was one, David was another, and a few of his friends. It’s a big deal. A mighty man was someone who was known for their valor and strength. They were respected and became famous for what they did.

So Naaman is a mighty, strong, and famous man. He’s the commander of the Syrian army. The Syrian army was an enemy of Israel. They fought many battles against each other. And Naaman was their best leader. The Bible tells us that “by him, the Lord had given victory to Syria.” That might sound strange, but why would God build up a leader from another nation, giving him favor and helping them defeat his nation of Israel? That’s because Israel had forgotten about God and began worshipping other gods. So God worked through other nations to humble them.

Namaan, mighty man, strong man, famous man, commander of the Syrian army. He’s a big deal. But he’s got one fatal flaw. One crack in the armor. Underneath all those amazing qualities was a terrible disease called “leprosy.” People in the ancient world struggled with leprosy, but even today, there’s leprosy in many countries. It’s an infection of bacteria that grows in your skin and can affect your nerves, skin tissue, and eyes. In really bad cases, patches of skin fall off, and eventually, people can lose limbs.

Namaan’s condition was geting worse. He had been able to hide it for a while, but it got to a point where he wanted to find a cure. In his house, there was a little girl who served his wife. She was an Israelite and a believer in the one true God. She knew of God’s power and how he worked through the words and deeds of prophets to perform many signs and wonders.

This “little girl,” with surprising boldness, says to the wife of Naaman, “a mighty man,” that he should go to Samaria and meet with Elisha, the Lord’s prophet, and he would be healed. Imagine being a young servant in a foreign land, stolen from your home and brought to serve in another family’s house. People you don’t know, who don’t believe the same thing you believe. This little girl must’ve been scared and lonely, probably angry, yet she didn’t question the power of the living God and his ability to heal Naaman. She took compassion on her master and saw an opportunity to help him. You and I? We probably would’ve kept quiet. I want to fly under the radar. Just do my job without stirring the pot; hopefully, I won’t get into trouble. Might we even have thought that this guy deserved it? But not this little girl. She embodied the apostle Paul’s encouragement when he writes in the book of Ephesians to treat “your earthly masters with respect and fear, and with sincerity of heart, just as you would obey Christ.”

What’s even crazier is that Naaman takes her seriously. This mighty, strong, famous commander of the king’s army—Naaman, takes advice from a little servant girl.  In the Bible, the apostle Paul writes to Timothy, a young pastor he mentored, “Let no man despise your youth, but be an example in word, conduct, love, spirit, faith, purity….” 

So Naaman collects a money offering to give to the prophet and rides off for Israel with a letter from the king of Syria. The letter said, “When this reaches you, know that I have sent to you Naaman, my servant, that you may cure him of his leprosy.”

The king of Israel gets this letter from the king of Syria, his enemy. The Syrian army was destroying Israel in every battle. They weren’t just enemies, they were conquering them. Utter defeat every time they met to fight. The Syrians were stealing their people and taking them as slaves. And now they send their top guy—mighty, strong, famous commander Naaman to their city to be healed? The king freaks out! This has to be a joke, or worse, it’s a trap! He cries out, “Am I God?!?! Do you think I have the power of life and death that I can decide who lives and who dies? You’ve gotta be joking! I can’t cure leprosy!”

Guys, this is the king of Israel. He is the KING of God’s nation. He is the KING of the people God has cared for and loved and proved himself to over and over again. This king has seen and heard wonderous miracles within his city walls by God’s prophet Elisha, yet when confronted with Naaman, he throws up his hands and says, “The jig is up!” “We’re done, we’re through!” He fails to recognize what God is doing at this moment. He’s taken the strong guy from the army of Israel’s enemy and brought him to ask for help. It’s too ironic to be a coincidence. This has God, G-O-D, written all over it. And yet the king doesn’t see it.

Luckily, the prophet Elisha hears about it. He sends a message to the king: “Don’t worry, I got this. Send him to me so he may know a prophet is in Israel.” Elisha isn’t bragging here. He’s pointing out the king’s failure to believe in God’s power to cure a man of leprosy. He’s not saying, “Look at me.” He’s saying, “Don’t you know that God is our God? That God has power? Don’t you understand that God has brought our enemy to our door in need of our help for a reason?”

That’s pretty bold, too, don’t you think? This is the prophet Elisha, and he’s speaking to the king of Israel and calling him out for behind a coward. Back then, Israel only had two leaders, the king and the prophet. The king was in charge of the military and the law, and the prophet performed miracles and delivered messages from God to the people. Elisha essentially says, “Come on, man, it’s only you and me here. One of us has to stand up for the big man upstairs. If you’re not going to do it, then let me.”

Again, we can look to the writings the apostle Paul sent to Timothy for encouragement, “For God has not given us a Spirit of Fear, but of power and love and a sound mind. Therefore do not be ashamed of the testimony of our Lord.” Elisha wasn’t afraid of the Syrian army. He didn’t lose hope when he heard their commander showed up in his city. Instead, he believed in the power and love of God.

So Naaman gathers up his entourage and heads over to Elisha’s house. The Bible describes horses and chariots. Naaman shows up “with the boys.” He’s got “his squad.” They pull up outside Elisha’s house. Do you know what happens next? Well, “obviously…” Elisha, the prophet of God and miracle worker, would rush down to meet him, right? He’s probably going to call out to God, put his hands on him, and pray for Naaman’s wounds, right? That’s what you’d expect. And that’s precisely what Naaman expected, too. But that’s not what happens. 

We read that Elisha sends out a messenger. He stays in his house and sends a servant to speak for him. There’s the commander of his enemy’s army with all his guys outside the house, and Elisha doesn’t even poke his head out the window? What could he possibly be doing that’s more important than this? I think Elisha knew something that we don’t. I think Elisha understood that Naaman believed he deserved honor and respect because of his fame and his position in the military. Elisha knew that this healing wasn’t about Naaman, and it wasn’t Elisha. It was about what God was going to do. He stays inside so that God can be in the spotlight. This is history in the making. Elisha has every right to be front and center in this story, yet he only interacts through messengers. He chooses to stay in the background.

Mighty, strong, famous commander of the Syrian army, enemy number one against Israel, rolls up to the prophet Elisha’s house to get healed, and he sends him a messenger. Naaman’s sitting thinking, “Who does this guy think he is? Doesn’t he know who I am?” What does he do when he doesn’t get what he wants? He goes off in a huff. Naaman thought he had the whole story figured out. He’s expecting a faith healing with all the shouting and razzle-dazzle. Naaman wanted it to be big and loud and worthy of his fame. We are not so different, are we? How often do we devise our idea of how God ought to operate? And when he doesn’t meet our expectations? We get disappointed in God. We’ve created a false god, an idol, and a god who operates according to our rules and desires. Naaman fits into this mold, and perhaps we do, too. We don’t just want God’s promises, we want to specify how He follows through on them. This way, we’ve tried to turn the sovereign God into our errand boy.

Not only that, but he tells Naaman just to go bathe in the Jordan River. He says, “Go down and dip yourself in the Jordan seven times and you’ll be healed.” That’s it? No calling down the power of God from heaven? No fancy arm movements and loud shouting? No sacrifices? No altar? No burnt offering? “You want me to take a bath seven times?… in the Jordan River?” Why did it have to be the Jordan? Why not some other way? Why seven times? Couldn’t there be solutions? Maybe in better, cleaner rivers closer to his own home?

Naaman’s complaints sound a lot like objections many people make to the gospel. Naaman didn’t like the humiliation of the gospel. He didn’t like the simplicity of it all or how narrow it seemed to be. Here’s a guy who’s fought battles his whole life, achieving victory after victory–and he’s being told that all he has to do to cleanse his body of this disease is splash around in a river for a minute? What a crazy idea! There’s nothing more ridiculous. Well, maybe there’s one thing more ridiculous–like the idea that putting your trust and faith in a man who died on a wooden cross almost two thousand years ago can give you a renewed life now, forgiveness from sin, resurrection from the dead, and eternal life. Yeah, that’s got to be the most ridiculous thing.

So Naaman goes down the river. He doesn’t like it, but he goes down. And he begins to wash himself. He goes down once, “One… two… three….” Maybe he stops and looks at himself to see if the disease has cleared up. Nothing… “This is silly,” he says to himself. 

“Keep going!” his friends call out. “You’ve got four more!”

So he continues, convinced it isn’t going to work. “You’ve come this far, might as well see it through.”

“Four… five… six…” Naaman still feels the same. No change, no difference. One more time under the water, and that’s it… “Seven…”

And in the very instant, “his skin was restored like that of a little child, and he was clean.”

He couldn’t believe his eyes. “I’m cured! I’m cured! The prophet was right, it’s gone! I’ve been made clean!”

Naaman thanked Elisha. He gathered some of the soil from the riverbed to bring home. Naaman hadn’t just been cured. He’d been converted. He believed in the power of the living God and wanted to bring the gospel home.

Imagine being the little girl back in Syria. She sees her master, Naaman returning from his journey. He gets down from his horse and rushes over to her. Scoops her up in his arms and says, “You were right. You God, he cured me! Truly yours is the one true God.” Oh, to have the humility of Naaman and the boldness of that little girl.