I've always loved the Bible story of Naaman (in chapter 5 of 2 Kings). Like most of us, he's not the kind of person you'd expect to go to God for healing. He's a commander in the Syrian army, he's rich and powerful, and he has a captive Israelite slave working in his household.
But he's got leprosy. And this slave has pity on him, and says "oh, if only he could go to the prophet in my land and be healed!"
So Naaman, this guy who moves in mighty political circles, asks the king for permission to go to Israel. And the king encourages him to go, and sends him with a letter of introduction and a request for healing to the king of Israel (because of course, wouldn't it be the king who has power to heal?). Naaman sets out with a fancy cavalcade, bringing heaps of gold and silver and fine clothes to try to pay for this impossible request.
And the king of Israel warily receives this commander with all his pomp and reads the letter and he looks at Naaman and he's like "whaaaat?! Syria's king is picking a fight with me! Nobody can heal leprosy but God!" Er - what's the politically correct way to tell your powerful neighbour's commander he's nuts?
But God's prophet Elisha sends word to the king that he, Elisha, is actually the one Naaman should come see.
So Naaman takes his opulent treasure and leaves the palace and winds his horses and chariots down through the common streets and stands at Elisha's door.
And Elisha sends a messenger, who tells him, "go wash in the Jordan River seven times, and be clean."
And you can totally see it - this Naaman, who is used to strategizing and political reasoning is utterly incensed. First, he was sent away from the king, down to this house where he isn't even received. He doesn't get a fancy show of power from this prophet, no incense or hand-waving or magic; not even so much as a how-do-you-do. He gets a messenger, who tells him quite literally to go soak his head -- and in an Israelite river, at that! Is Elisha trying to tell him Israel's rivers are better than Syria's? How dare he!?
From a political standpoint, he's been rebuffed and belittled and given the runaround.
And of course he sees it that way, that's the only standpoint he has, you know?
That's his life.
But his servants have a different perspective.
When he starts to storm away, unhealed and completely enraged, raving about the superiority of Syria's rivers, they come after him and speak gently to him.
"Hey," they point out, "wouldn't you do anything to be healed? Anything at all? He's not telling you to do anything hard: just wash and be clean."
And their perspective adjustment is just what he needs.
So he goes into the water and dips seven times, and bam, his leprosy is gone and his skin is fresh and new and this God is real and this God is amazing and this God is who he will adore forever.
Ahhh. Elisha wasn't trying to cast aspersions on any rivers. The King hadn't dismissed him out of hand. They had led him to God for healing.
But he needed the perspective adjustment from his servants in order to receive it.
I love how the people who direct Naaman to healing are, at all three points of the story, servants. They don't have a lot of power, but what they have (their faith, knowledge, and perspective), they use for good. God loves to hide his treasure in powerless packages. In captives. In messengers. In servants.
And through them, he blesses Naaman and brings him to know and love Himself.
Sometimes I'm like Naaman. I need help, but instead of getting it, I find myself knocking at the wrong door, getting bent out of
shape and tied up in knots over imagined slights to my precious dignity. I need people to speak gently to me, to share their faith, share their messages, to adjust my perspective and lend me theirs.
Yeah.
We can hear more when we listen with another's ears.
We can see more when we see with another's eyes.
We need community. We need each other. No matter how foreign or powerful or captive or free we are.
Thanks for being my community, guys.
xo.
