II
Kings 5:1-14
The Syrian general Naaman was in big
trouble. He had contracted leprosy, and
the disease would be fatal. In the
course of it, he would also find himself cut off from contact with others as
what we would now call a public health measure.
It would mean permanent quarantine.
A man in his position probably would not be driven away into the
wilderness, as happened to most lepers.
People with his kind of power and prestige were treated slightly
better. In Israel, when King Uzziah was
struck with the disease, he could not stay in the palace, but they built him a
separate house [II Kings 15:5] and his son Jotham ruled as regent until his
death. Essentially, though, he was kept
in isolation until he died. That might
have been the best that Naaman could have expected – permanent solitary
confinement on an aristocratic death row.
Word of his situation got around his
household. His wife and his servants
could see what was going on. After all,
it was a disease that showed up on the skin, and eventually it would not be
able to be hidden. The king had become
aware of the situation already, too, and would not let Naaman stick around
indefinitely, though he may have been reluctant to lose the service of someone
who apparently was an effective officer.
During the short window of time before it became public knowledge,
Naaman must have become desperate. He
grasped at straws, taking the recommendation of one of his wife’s slaves, a
girl taken captive in Israel.
“She said to her
mistress, ‘If only my lord were with the prophet who is in Samaria! [That would have been
Elisha.] He would cure him of his
leprosy.’ So Naaman went in and told his
lord just what the girl from the land of Israel had said. And the king of Aram said, ‘Go, then, and I
will send along a letter to the king of Israel.’” [II Kings 5:3-5]
So
off went a sort of combined military and diplomatic expedition that showed up
on the doorstep of the king of Israel, ordering Naaman’s cure. The king of Israel figured that this was a
setup to provide a pretext for another invasion. He couldn’t cure this man, but if he
disobeyed his overlord’s order then he risked punishment.
Enter Elisha, who heard about things
and sent a message saying that he could take care of the situation. Naaman was sent on his way. He arrived at Elisha’s house with his horses
and chariots [II Kings 5:9], and here’s when it got interesting. To this point it has been a story of
politics. It’s about to become a story
about faith.
Elisha left Naaman outside. He didn’t receive him. He didn’t greet him. He did send a servant out, who told Naaman to
wash himself seven times in the Jordan and then go home. [II Kings 5:10] It’s a borderline insult, and Naaman took it
as more than borderline. He was not
being treated in the fashion to which he had become accustomed.
“Naaman became angry and
went away, saying, ’I thought that for me he would surely come out, and stand
and call on the name of the Lord his God, and would wave his hand over the
spot, and cure the leprosy!” [II
Kings 5:11]
That
little “for me” says a lot. He
figured he deserved special treatment.
It was not enough to be blessed with life and health. He had to be recognized as the powerful,
mighty Naaman! Who is this Elisha, and
who is this Elisha’s God, to be so unimpressed?
It was a good thing for Naaman that
his servants understood how to manage and how to handle him. You get the feeling this was not the first
tantrum that he had thrown. They
protected his fragile little ego, and talked him into going along with the
process.
“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?’” [II
Kings 5:13]
What
they didn’t see is that Elisha had, in fact, asked him to do something
difficult – at least for Naaman. That
was to accept God’s gift as something unearned, as what we call “grace”. God would (and did) bless him, but it would
not be because God was impressed with Naaman’s riches and power, but because
God was aware of his need.
There was even a need that Naaman
didn’t see. Left to progress, his
leprosy would cut him off from human contact, but Naaman’s pride had already
turned to arrogance toward the people around him and, left to progress, would
lead him to turn away from the God who could restore him not only physically,
but in relationship to those people and to God himself. On God’s behalf, Elisha had presented a true
challenge to Naaman: “Get over yourself.”
Only then would there be a real cure, both body and soul.
I submit to you that this is a
challenge we all face. We all have to
learn, one way or another, to accept God’s love at face value, pure and simple,
when so much of the world tells us that what matters is our wealth or our
achievement or our beauty or our intelligence or how many friends we have –
pick your measure of self-worth. None of
that is any measure of our God-worth.
That comes from God alone, and if there is any kind of requirement for
us to be restored to our fullest being, that requirement is to trust God and to
take the love that he offers, a love so entire that Jesus lay down his life so
that we could be enveloped by it.
When Naaman gave up on impressing
anybody, he was cured.
When we accept God’s gift of grace
as a gift, our life in Christ, our real life, begins.
On July 16, 2011, in St. Stephen’s
Cathedral in Vienna, people had gathered from all across Europe for the funeral
of Otto von Hapsburg. The service was
presided over by the Archbishop of Vienna and there was a full orchestra. At the end they sang the “Kaiserhymne”, the
Austrian equivalent of “God Save the King”.
Soldiers in ancient uniforms picked up a coffin covered with a flag
embroidered with his complicated coat of arms and in a cloud of incense hundreds
of people lined up behind it to process on foot to the Capuchin monastery where
the imperial crypt is found.
As had happened before at the
funerals of his predecessors, when they arrived they found the front door
closed and locked. The Master of Ceremonies
knocked three times. A voice came from
inside.
“Prior: Who
desires entry?
MC: Otto of
Austria; once Crown Prince of Austria-Hungary; Royal Prince of Hungary and
Bohemia, of Dalmatia, Croatia, Slavonia, Galicia, Lodomeria and Illyria; Grand
Duke of Tuscany and Cracow; Duke of Lorraine, Salzburg, Styria, Carinthia,
Carniola and the Bukowina; Grand Prince of Transylvania, Margrave of Moravia;
Duke of Upper and Lower Silesia, of Modena, Parma, Piacenza, Guastalla, of
Oświęcim and Zator, Teschen, Friaul, Dubrovnik and Zadar; Princely Count of
Habsburg and Tyrol, of Kyburg, Gorizia and Gradisca; Prince of Trent and
Brixen; Margrave of Upper and Lower Lusatia and Istria; Count of Hohenems,
Feldkirch, Bregenz, Sonnenburg etc.; Lord of Trieste, Kotor and Windic March,
Grand Voivod of the Voivodeship of Serbia etc. etc.
Prior: We do
not know him.
(The MC
knocks thrice)
Prior: Who
desires entry?
MC: Dr. Otto
von Habsburg, President and Honorary President of the Paneuropean Union, Member
and quondam President of the European Parliament, honorary doctor of many
universities, honorary citizen of many cities in Central Europe, member of
numerous venerable academies and institutes, recipient of high civil and
ecclesiastical honours, awards, and medals, which were given him in recognition
of his decades-long struggle for the freedom of peoples for justice and right.
Prior: We do
not know him.
(The MC
knocks thrice)
Prior: Who
desires entry?
MC: Otto, a
mortal and sinful man.
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