Surprising Truths - Reflections on 2 Kings 5:1-14, Pentecost 4, Year C
by John C. Holbert on Tuesday, May 13, 2025
The Hebrew Bible is replete with superb narratives, written by masters of the art over centuries, from the wonderful tales of Genesis to the gems of Exodus, all the way to the wonders of Ruth and Jonah, too many superb stories to recount. Among the very best of these fabulous wonders is the tale of Naaman, the Syrian, and his confrontation with the prophet Elisha in 2 Kings 5. Any preacher needs to offer to her congregation the rich details of this fabulous story in order to expose them to the delights that ancient storytellers had to offer. I will do my best in this brief essay to highlight a few of those delights.
“Naaman, leader of the army of the king of Aram was a great man with a raised face (i.e. “in high favor”—presumably because he did not need to lower his gaze when in the king’s presence) in the king’s presence, because through him YHWH had provided victory to Aram. The man was a mighty warrior, but suffered with leprosy” (2 Kings 5:1). The word translated “leprosy” can mean any number of unsightly skin diseases, though probably not the famous Hansen’s disease, since that malady involves many physical impairments. Naaman (whose name may mean “pleasantness”) was, according to the story, fully capable of an active life, as general of the army. His problem was more an unpleasant one. As the story begins, there is an immediate incongruity described: a great and powerful man infected with a nasty disease. It will not be the last incongruity in the tale.
During one of the Aramean raids on Israel, during which, note, YHWH provides an Aramean victory, a tiny Israelite slave girl is captured and is made a servant to Naaman’s wife. This unnamed servant says to her mistress, “My lord should be with the prophet in Samaria; he would heal him of his leprosy!” (2 Kings 5:3). The “great man” is advised by the “tiny slave girl” with vigor, announcing that the disease can be cured if the correct physician is consulted. Without hesitation or question, Naaman goes directly to the king of Aram and tells him of the girl’s counsel. The king approves of the journey to Israel and passes along a personal letter to share with Israel’s king.
Naaman, being the great man that he is, collects an absurdly large retinue of goods to accompany him to Israel. He amasses “ten talents of silver, six thousand shekels of gold, and ten sets of garments” (2 Kings 5:5). There is no way to accurately relate these figures to our own day, but suffice it to say it is a vast treasure store, fully worthy of a great man. Naaman means to impress these rube-like Israelites, his defeated foe, and these astonishing wares will do just that. The kingly letter, however, proves a problem, because it says, “When this letter comes to you, know that I have sent to you my servant Naaman that you may cure him of his leprosy” (2 Kings 5:6). The Israelite king imagines that the king of Aram is demanding him to cure the general, knowing full well that he has no such power. He concludes that Aram’s king is actually picking a fight with him, and will attack after he has failed to effect the cure, which he surely will fail to do!
Fortunately, Elisha, the man of God, heard that the king of Israel had torn his clothes in horror at the Aramean king’s ridiculous demand for a cure, and sent a message to the king, suggesting that he needs to cool down, and “send him (Naaman) to me, so that he may learn that there is a prophet in Israel,” and plainly, king, you are not him! So, Naaman heads toward the prophet, along with his “horses and chariots,” and no doubt all that gold, silver, and costly clothes, “and halted at the entrance to Elisha’s house” (2 Kings 5:9). He expects proper deference, as a great man, and probably sits his stallion with some discomfort and fury as he is made to wait for the prophet to do his stuff.
The surprises are not yet at an end, for Elisha does not exit his house, but instead sends out his servant to relay what must be done. Once again, a servant brings the truth. Without introduction, no “my lord,” no “O mighty man,” the servant says abruptly, “Go, wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh will be restored and you shall be clean” (2 Kings 5:10). One can imagine the servant, after delivering the brief speech, turning on his heels, and without a goodbye heading back into the house.
And Naaman is enraged, and turned around to head back home, fuming “I thought that for me he, the prophet himself, would surely come out, and stand and call on the name of YHWH, his God, would wave his hand over the place, and cure the leprosy” (2 Kings 5:11). What am I, chopped liver? I am a great man; I am a general; I have just defeated you pathetic Israelites. Do I not deserve the full prophetic schtick—the loud divine calling, the spooky hand wave, the sparkling prophetic robes? Dip myself in the Jordan River? Have you seen the Jordan River? Compared to the great rivers of Aram, Abana and Pharpar, it is but a muddy creek! Why did I come all this way to be treated like some common person? And he left in a rage.
But his servants (there are those servants again!) came to him and said, “Father (how familiar they are!), if the prophet had commanded you to do a hard thing, would you not have done it? How much more when all he said was ‘Wash and be clean’” (2 kings 5:13). So, he did the Jordan washing, and “his flesh was restored like the flesh of a young boy, and he was clean” (2 Kings 5:14). This tale is about the surprise of the truth. That truth comes from servants, from those seldom taken with seriousness, and great men do well to listen. Also, kings would do well to stay out of the way of that truth, only fouling the desire merely to be clean with foolish letters that are misconstrued, causing strife and confusion. Truth arises from surprising sources here, and as often in the Bible we would do well to read and ponder with considerable care and considerable openness. After all, we are dealing with a God who is always choosing people we never would to do the work of that God. Our God is, if nothing else, greatly surprising!