Sermon by Pastor Mike Button

The Politics of Healing
Text:  2 Kings 5: 1-27

Naaman is a very important man with a very big problem.  Although he is the commander of the army of the King of Aram, he has leprosy.  We shouldn’t automatically assume that he had Hansen’s Disease, today’s clinical name for leprosy, since in the Bible leprosy was more like a general category for a host of different skin ailments.  But what’s indisputable is that Naaman had a disease with a stigma attached to it.  Given his position, I doubt that anyone would have called him a leper to his face, but he had the kind of condition that made people want to keep their distance from him. 

But Naaman has a friend in an even higher place than the king of Aram.  We can only assume that the same Lord who had given Naaman victory in battle was the same Lord who arranged for an Israelite servant girl to wait on Naaman’s wife.  Besides being a powerful man, Naaman was, it seems, also a good man, or at least good enough to inspire compassion of this servant girl.  She tells her mistress, “If only my master were with the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy.”  The grapevine must have moved pretty fast in Naaman’s house, because we next find the good general petitioning the king of Aram for a letter of introduction to take with him to the court of the king of Israel.  As a man familiar with the ways of power and influence, Naaman just automatically assumes that if there’s healing in Israel, it must fall under the auspices of Israel’s king.  So, Naaman heads to Samaria bringing with him a veritable king’s ransom: 
“ten talents of silver, six thousand shekels of gold, and ten sets of garments.”  But on presenting his letter of introduction at the royal court, the king of Israel goes ballistic.  Assuming that the king of Aram is trying to pick a fight with him, Israel’s king exclaims, “Am I God, to give life or death, that this man sends word to me to cure a man of his leprosy?”  Apparently, the king’s household also had a pretty good grapevine, because very shortly after the king’s outburst, Elisha sends word to have Naaman come to him, “that he may learn that there is a prophet in Israel.”

Naaman arrives at Elisha’s house with his whole retinue in tow, servants, horses, chariot’s, and of course, his king’s ransom.  But Elisha doesn’t even come out to greet him.  Instead, he sends out a messenger – I imagine a kid, maybe 9 or 10 years old – telling Naaman to go wash in the Jordan seven times, whereupon the general comes down with a good case of what my mother would call the reds.  The Bible says that Naaman became angry, but I’m thinking that he got his feelings hurt.  After all, an important man like Naaman had every right to expect that the red carpet would be rolled out for him.  That’s how they greeted visiting dignitaries back in his country, and in this one, too.  If the Prime Minister of Great Britain or the President of France came to America and we sent out a ten-year old kid to greet him, there’d be an international incident.  Then, too, I’m thinking that Naaman was also a little let down.  In every time and culture, including our own, healers typically make a big show of the healing process.  In the old-time medicine shows, and in today’s big stadium revivals, there would be drums rolling, prayers rising, and huge crowds oohing and ahhing, women screaming, children crying, sweat beading off the healer’s brow until he would cry to heaven, “HEAL!”  But no, there’s none of that; just, “Go, wash in the Jordan.”  Not even a drum roll!

Naaman is so disgusted that he’s ready to pack it up and head back to Aram, where the rivers are every bit as good or better than Israel’s, when, again, his servants come to his rescue.  They talk him down, telling him, “Father, if the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it?  How much more, when all he said to you was, ‘Wash, and be clean?’”
His feelings assuaged, Naaman immerses himself in the Jordan seven times, and wouldn’t you know, his flesh is restored like that of a young boy’s, just as Elisha said.  Duly impressed, Naaman and his entourage return to Elisha’s house where the general finally gets some face time with the prophet.  After testifying that “there is no God in all the earth except in Israel,” Naaman rolls out his ten talents of silver, six thousand golden shekels, and ten sets of garments and urges Elisha to accept them. Elisha turns him down flat:  “As the Lord lives, whom I serve, I will accept nothing.”  Without having been able to grease the prophet’s skids with his big gifts, Naaman might have been a little nervous to make his next two requests, but he goes ahead.  First, he wants to take a couple of loads of Israelite dirt back with him to Aram.  And second, he wants a pass that would allow him to accompany the King of Aram on his official trips to the Temple of the god Rimmon back in Damascus. 
Now Elisha was what we might call a hard-shell prophet.  Very strict, very harsh, Elisha was known for being totally, even violently uncompromising when it came to worshipping Yahweh, the LORD, and no others.  So it must have been to everybody’s great surprise when Elisha tells Naaman, “Go in peace.”  Not, “Go in peace, serve the Lord,” not “Go in peace, remember the poor,” not even, “Go in peace, don’t forget to sign up for the fish dinners.”  Just, “Go in peace.”  No strings attached!

And that’s exactly what Naaman does.  He goes in peace, until he’s overtaken by Elisha’s servant Gehazi.  If you’ve ever seen any of the Mummy movies with Brendan Frasier and Rachel Weisz, you may recall the character Benny.  He’s a con artist, a double-dealer, a little weasel of a guy.  That’s Gehazi.  He sees Naaman heading off into the sunset with his king’s ransom, and Gehazi thinks, “I got to get me some of that.”  So he chases after Naaman and when he catches up with him he tells him some cock and bull story about two prophets unexpectedly dropping in from the hill country of Ephraim.  Could the general spare a talent of silver and a couple of changes of clothing?  Naaman says, “Take two talents.” 

Gehazi returns with the loot only to find Elisha waiting for him.  “Where have you been, Gehazi?” asks Elisha.  The servant lies to his master, and after confronting him with the truth, Elisha declares, “Therefore the leprosy of Naaman shall cling to you, and to your descendants forever.”  Gehazi is thus, as they say, hoisted on his own petard, sort of like Benny in the Mummy movie when he’s eaten by all those scarabs. 
Now I hope you were all paying attention because I have a little quiz.  Based on today's reading, answer yes or no to the following questions:

1.         God was working in Naaman’s life even before Naaman knew God.

2.         God needs to know that a person’s theology is in order before healing can happen. 

3.         God accepts bribes. 

4.         A big check attached to your prayer helps get God’s attention. 

5.         God has to be talked into healing because it’s something that God very rarely does, and when God does heal, it’s always comes with a big show. 

6.         Naaman goes back home with two mule-loads of dirt because God will only hear the prayers of people with holy land (e.g., Palestine, Minnesota) in their pockets.

7.         Elisha sends Naaman back home with two mule-loads of dirt because he   wants Naaman to know that he’s a child of Israel’s God and therefore an heir of Israel’s inheritance, the land. 

8.         Naaman has to cut off all contact with the religion of his native land. 

9.         You can get leprosy through exposure to the bacteria Mycobacterium leprae and Mycobacterium lepromatosis. 

10.       You can get leprosy by bilking money out of people for God’s free grace.