And Naaman, captain of the host of the king of Syria, was a great man before his master, and honourable, for by him Jehovah had given deliverance to Syria; and he was a mighty man of valour, [but] a leper.
Naaman had everything the world admires: rank, success, the king's favour and personal courage. Then one short clause at the end undoes the whole list.
The verse names three kinds of standing. One writer takes them in turn as a full portrait of human success.
Three personal details stand out. He was a "great man." He was also a successful man, "in high favor, because by him the LORD had given victory to Syria." And he had a good name from his own qualities — "He was a mighty man of valor." Together these three things give a perfect human picture. They would make the man who had them admired or envied in any worldly circle. The world had nothing left to give this brave, successful, well-rewarded soldier. He ought, if it were possible, to have been a completely happy man.
Every honour in this verse was real. One thing cancelled all of it.
Naaman was a hero by the world's standards; his outstanding qualities had gained him a name among men. What did he lack? Nothing, the world would say; everything, replies the believer. One single thing ruins man's finest gifts. It cancels the highest position he can reach and the greatest advantages he can aim at. That one thing is sin. This man was a leper, and his body carried visible uncleanness. What did the badges of his rank and all the outward glory of his power do? They only showed how low his illness had brought him. Magnificent garments on a corpse only bring out the corruption they cover.
The medals did not hide the disease from Naaman himself. He knew it in his own heart.
The king favoured him. His countrymen cheered him. Yet under the general's uniform, shining with medals for bravery, Naaman knew the humbling truth in his own heart, the truth Scripture puts so sharply: "but he was a leper." He knew all too well that he was a dying man — that the loathsome leprosy had numbered his days.
One writer reads the disease itself as a picture of sin, and finds two lessons in it.
In Naaman we see man at his best. Yet God calls this man — the king's favourite and the people's hero — a leper. Leprosy is a fitting picture of sin in two ways. The disease is loathsome, and so it shows how sin defiles, making man a sinner by nature. The disease cannot be cured, and so it shows the hopeless state that sin brings a man into. As fallen men we are not only sinful in nature, but also without strength to change our state. If we are to be blessed at all, we are thrown entirely on the grace of God.
The verse says the LORD gave Syria its victory. Syria was fighting God's own people.
Here we have an experienced soldier, an able general, a successful man, rightly respected, honoured and rewarded by his master. His name means "agreeableness," and the Lord had used him to bring victory to Syria in order to discipline His own guilty people. Again and again we read that in the time of the judges God was grieved by the misery of His people. He raised up one deliverer after another to save them from their oppressors. Not because Israel deserved deliverance, but because He pitied them. So, here, the suffering of the Syrians had appealed to the tender mercy of the Lord.
One writer sees a larger pattern here: victory handed to Israel's enemy, and Israelites taken away as captives.
The whole scene seems to foreshadow the present age, in which God sets Israel aside and gives ruling power to the Gentiles. Two things picture the times of the Gentiles: the Lord had given victory to the Syrians, Israel's open enemy, and captives had been carried off from Israel. During this time the Lord shows grace to the Gentile.
Nothing in his list of honours counted with God. The last words of the verse did.
That which gave Naaman such a great place before the world had no value in God's sight. In His day the Lord used Naaman as an example of grace reaching a Gentile (Luke 4:27). He did not say there were many great men, honourable men and men of valour. None of those qualities would make a man a fit object for grace, and so He says there were many lepers.
- Great — Great with his master, successful in war, brave in himself. The world had nothing left to give him.
- But — One clause cancels the list. Fine clothes on a corpse only show up the corruption they cover.
- Leper — Leprosy pictures sin twice over. It defiles, and it cannot be cured. That leaves only grace.
- Given — Even Syria's victories came from the Lord's hand. He was disciplining Israel and pitying Syria.
- Chosen — Greatness, honour and valour qualified Naaman for nothing. His leprosy made him the fitting object of God's mercy — many lepers, the Lord said, not many heroes.
And the Syrians had gone out in bands, and had brought away captive out of the land of Israel a little maid; and she waited on Naaman's wife.
Syrian raiders carried off a girl from Israel, and she became a slave to the wife of the general whose troops had taken her. Scripture never gives her name, yet the story of Naaman's healing starts here.
The verse reads like an accident of war. Commentators see God's hand placing one small captive.
The Spirit first describes his high rank and his distressing affliction. Then in a few words He gives a striking instance of God's ways in providence... To us this seems mysterious, but how can man understand the government of God?... Yet here we may learn something. In the middle of all the oppression and wrong, the sorrow and suffering in the world, God has an order of blessing for individual souls that we may long to enjoy. Despite everything, this poor child was in the right place, at the right time, with the right aim, and in the right spirit to do the right thing.
The same raid also carried a wider meaning. Power had moved from Israel to the Gentile nations.
The whole scene seems to be a foreshadowing of the present age, in which Israel is set aside and ruling power is given to the Gentiles. The power had passed to the Gentile, and an Israelite woman is in captivity. During this time the Lord shows grace to the Gentile.
The chapter sets the decorated commander beside the child who waits on his wife. Measured by what each one really had, the ranking flips.
What a contrast between the little maid of Israel (v. 2) and this man! In the eyes of the world she was a poor, insignificant being. She was cut off from those who would naturally support her, and from all the blessing belonging to God's people. She was a captive and a slave of Naaman's wife, standing in this humble position before her mistress, while he could lift up his head with pride before his king! What did this child have, then? The world says, Nothing; the believer answers, Everything. She knew the prophet and the power of the Word of God... Her faith knows no uncertainty.
Damascus gave her faith nothing to feed on: no teacher, no temple of the true God, and every reason to blend in.
This little daughter of Israel found herself in a land where the true God was unknown, and where idol worship was supreme. There was not one in Damascus who was likely to teach Naaman's little slave-girl the law of Moses. Can we wonder if she was tempted at times to abandon her faith in Jehovah? Or to bow down in "the house of Rimmon" like all the other slaves in the great general's house? But the fear of Jehovah was before her eyes, and she would have no other gods before Him; she stood firm in her faith.
What she went on to say rested on no precedent she could point to.
But when had God ever done such a thing? Since the writing of Leviticus 12-14, Scripture records no case of any man cured of his leprosy. Even at that very time there were "many lepers in Israel" (Luke 4:27), and none of them were cleansed... It is wonderful to note the confidence that faith has in God. Faith refuses to believe that anything is impossible with Him.
She served the household that had ruined her life. What she says to her mistress is the surprise of the chapter.
A kind concern for Naaman clearly prompted the words she spoke to his wife. She might well have regarded him as the cause of her misfortunes. For Naaman, even if he did not go on the raids himself, was responsible for them. But the little maid knew in some measure what it was to love her enemies and forgive them. She pitied her leprous master and held no grudge against him for the loss of her home and her country.
By every human measure she was too unimportant to appear in the record at all.
Let us not be surprised at this. Have we not seen again and again in Scripture that God uses the insignificant instruments? He does great things through the unexpected servants. And do we not often find the rarest qualities and graces in the poorest, the humblest, and most hidden of His people?
Centuries later the Lord Himself referred to what came of her few words.
The little maid passes from the page of Scripture, still unnamed. But the Lord Himself spoke of the result of her service (Luke 4:27). We may be sure that He still takes account of every service, however obscure and unnoticed by others.
- Captured — A raid took her home and freedom, yet it put her in the right house at the right time.
- Constant — Surrounded by idols, with no teacher and every excuse to conform, she held to the God of Israel.
- Confident — No record told of a leper healed, yet her faith refused to call anything impossible with God.
- Caring — She wanted healing for the man responsible for her losses, and held no grudge.
- Counted — She set the whole story moving, and the Lord Himself later pointed to what her words produced.
And she said to her mistress, Oh, would that my lord were before the prophet that is in Samaria! then he would cure him of his leprosy.
Naaman commands the army of Syria, and he has leprosy. The one person in his house who knows where his cure lies is a captive Israelite girl who waits on his wife.
God's answer to this man's disease comes through the least important person in the house.
First, we have man as a sinner, and then we have the messenger with the good news of salvation. The messenger of blessing to Naaman was a little maid, brought away captive from the land of Israel, and she waited on Naaman's wife. In her position she was humble, and if not despised, then of no account in the world's esteem. So it always is in the day of grace. The preacher of the gospel, if he takes his true place, must always be lowly and small in the presence of man's pride. An apostle could say, "We have become, and are still, like the scum of the world, the refuse of all things."
A raid ruined a child's life while the king of Israel kept his throne.
God had indeed pronounced judgment on Israel, yet the king still kept his throne, and it is a child who suffers. To us this seems mysterious. But how can man understand the government of God?… Yet this case surely teaches us one thing. In the middle of all the oppression and wrong, the sorrows and sufferings of the world, God has an order of blessing for individual souls that we may long to enjoy. This poor child was, despite everything, in the right place, at the right time, with the right object, and in the right spirit to do the right thing. All the happy results that followed turned on her little word so fitly spoken.
She wants healing for the commander whose troops carried her off.
It touched the heart of the little maid. One day, in the most natural way possible, she said to her mistress while waiting on her, "Would that my lord were with the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy." She had a great heart of compassion. Here she is wanting the good of the man who might be counted her greatest enemy. There was something of the kindness of God in her little heart. She was little, but morally and spiritually she was great.
Nothing in the past supported what she said.
She was sure that there was goodness in the heart of God even for the non-Jew. She longed for her master to be blessed. So she said, "Would that my lord were with the prophet who is in Samaria!" But when had God ever done such a thing? From the day Leviticus 12-14 was written, Scripture records no case of any man being cured of his leprosy. Even at that very time there were "many lepers in Israel" (Luke 4:27), and none of them were cleansed… It is a blessed thing to note the confidence faith has in God. Faith refuses to believe that anything is impossible with Him.
One writer applies her trust to ours.
Her confidence was not in the healing, but in Elisha, just as we should have confidence in the Lord Jesus personally, rather than in the blessing He might bring.
Naaman later missed the point of her message.
The little maid said nothing about silver, gold, or changes of clothing, but simply announced the free, unconditional grace of God for her master's benefit. Naaman did not understand it. If he had, he would never have offered to repay the prophet for cleansing him from his leprosy. That offer spoiled the joy of the man of God, and the testimony of the little maid as well. And because God must have all the praise, Elisha the prophet refused to take any of the silver, gold, or changes of clothing.
One writer finds the whole task of an evangelist in what this girl knew.
She knew the power of the man of God, the prophet in Israel, and she was so sure of it that she bore witness to it without wavering. She also knew the great need in her master's life. She longed to bring these two together — the prophet with his power and grace, and the leper with his corruption and misery… She was a great evangelist. The evangelist needs to know only these two things she knew: the need, and the Man who can meet it. He must know them with conviction, and with a longing of soul that others should know them too.
- Small — the messenger is a captive girl of no account in the world, and the gospel still travels that way.
- Placed — her loss was not wasted: right place, right time, right spirit. Everything turned on one well-timed sentence.
- Kind — she asks blessing for the man whose soldiers took her. Something of God's own kindness was in her heart.
- Sure — no leper had ever been cured, yet she rested on the prophet himself, not on a record of results.
- Free — she mentions no silver and no terms. She simply announced the free, unconditional grace of God for her master.
And he went and told his lord saying, Thus and thus said the maid that is of the land of Israel.
Naaman is a great man in Syria, and he has leprosy. In this verse he repeats to his king what a captive Israelite girl has said. Everything that follows — the journey, the healing, the worship — starts because someone passed on the words of a slave.
Naaman took the report to his lord, the king of Syria, and the king drew his own conclusion.
Despite how unimportant the messenger was — only a girl — Naaman was impressed enough to tell the king of Syria what he had heard (v. 4). The king of Syria naturally assumed that if anyone in Israel could heal sickness, it must be the king of Israel.
But why would a commander act on what a slave girl said?
Her words did not fall to the ground. When do they, if they spring from a heart full of love and devotion? Her life must also have backed up her words. Naaman was a shrewd man of the world. He would not have set off on a long journey if he had thought her words were nothing more than a child's extravagant wish — and that child his wife's slave. Whatever his hopes, he went to Samaria, and as we know, he was healed through the word of the prophet.
God chose the messenger, and the choice was deliberate.
God takes a way that pours contempt on all our pride. So we move at once from "a great man" to "a little girl" — a stranger in a foreign land, a slave to Naaman's wife. God is going to bless someone who, in the eyes of the world, is "a great man." So He will use "a little girl" in this work of grace. Her position in this world was insignificant. She was "little," but her faith was great. She speaks as one who knows the healing power of grace. Naaman may feel the sore; the little girl knew the healing. Her confidence is all the more remarkable. In her own experience she could not have seen any leper healed. The Lord Himself says that in Elisha's time there were many lepers, but "none of them was cleansed" except Naaman the Syrian.
Where does a slave girl get that kind of certainty?
What great faith! Behind the curtains, in the quietness of her life, she must have had dealings in her spirit with the God that Elisha knew and served. Whether this was before her captivity or afterwards I do not know. And she had such complete confidence in the compassion of God! She spoke boldly, not on a public platform, but in the quiet of the women's quarters, in front of her mistress. By these few words she set in motion the whole chain of events that led to Naaman's blessing and to the glory of God.
Her word did stir Naaman. What he then did with it is another matter.
The word of the little girl does its work. It awakens the desire for the blessing in the heart of the needy Naaman. But the ways of grace cannot be understood by the natural man. Full of his own thoughts, he pays little attention to the word of the little girl. She knows the grace and power of God, so she speaks of the prophet in Samaria. He follows his own natural thinking and turns to the king of Syria. He imagines that the great ones of the earth can secure the blessing he wants, helped along by the payment of a large fee.
Her circumstances gave her every reason to say nothing at all.
She was in enemy territory; she was a slave; she had probably lost her loved ones and may have seen her home destroyed. But the firmness of her faith and the affection of her heart gave power to her testimony. The result was that Naaman was not only cleansed; he was secured as a worshipper (v. 17). The little girl passes off the page of Scripture, still unnamed. Yet the Lord Himself commented on what her service produced (Luke 4:27). We may be sure that He still takes account of every service, however obscure and unnoticed it may be by others.
- Word spoken. One confident sentence from a captive slave girl, spoken in a private room, started everything.
- Word carried. Naaman thought it worth repeating to his king, so a slave's word reached a throne.
- Word believed. Her daily life gave her sentence weight. No shrewd soldier travels that far on a child's daydream.
- Word misread. It stirred Naaman's desire, but he looked to a palace and a large fee where she had pointed to a prophet.
- Word remembered. She leaves the page unnamed, yet the Lord Himself pointed to what her testimony produced — and He still notices service no one else sees.
And the king of Syria said, Well! go, and I will send a letter to the king of Israel. And he departed, and took with him ten talents of silver, and six thousand [shekels] of gold, and ten changes of raiment.
Naaman had heard where healing was: with the prophet in Samaria. But he packed a king's letter and a fortune in silver, gold and clothing. Every step of that arrangement moved him away from the place the little maid had named.
The girl named a prophet. Naaman went to a palace instead. One writer explains that swap by what the natural mind assumes about blessing.
The word of the little maid does its work. It awakens the desire for the blessing in the heart of the needy Naaman. However, the natural man cannot understand the ways of grace. Filled with his own thoughts, he pays little attention to the word of the little maid. She knows the grace and power of God, so she speaks of the prophet in Samaria. He follows his own natural thoughts and turns to the king of Syria. He thinks the blessing he longs for can be won through the great ones of the earth, helped by the payment of a large fee.
The king of Syria is glad to help. His idea of help is a letter from one throne to another.
"Go now, and I will send a letter to the king of Israel," said the king of Syria. This king is a complete stranger to God's resources. He wants to treat the salvation of his servant as a matter between one king and another. It is a striking example of how little the world understands. It does not ever occur to him that God can do something; as he is without God in the world, his only resource is men.
So the royal letter carries no weight with God.
Grace is available for the guilty, whether that guilty one be amongst the exalted in the land or among the lowly — "a great man" or "a little maid" — but the patronage of kings cannot secure it, and gold cannot buy it.
The baggage list shows what Naaman expected his money to do. One writer calls that expectation a mistake countless people repeat.
The first effect of the good news he had heard was his desire to have the blessing offered to him. It met his need, because it held out the promise of a cure for his leprosy. But at once, as happens with countless souls, he falls into the error of supposing that he could earn or buy the blessing he longed for. Naaman prepares himself with a letter from the king, ten talents of silver, six thousand pieces of gold, and ten changes of clothing. Surely, with the influence of a king behind him, and with so much money, he will succeed in his quest.
Notice who receives the letter. It is addressed to a man with a crown, not to the man with God's word.
He went to the king instead of the prophet — to the one who swayed earthly power instead of one with spiritual power — the servant of Jehovah. Many an anxious soul makes a similar mistake. Many a man goes to the wrong person today.
Everyone in this verse wants Naaman well. Good intentions still sent him down the wrong road.
He naturally wanted to help Naaman and as naturally turned to the king of Israel to do it. Then, along with this, comes the need of money and the like. This, too, is gathered together: ten talents of silver, six thousand pieces of gold, and ten changes of clothing. So the poor leper is kept from Elisha, and kept from him by the very people who showed the deepest concern for his welfare.
Naaman loaded that fortune for a purpose. One writer names the lesson it finally taught him.
I am sure that Naaman learnt the great lesson as he stood before Elisha: God will not sell His blessing. There are two reasons. Naaman, with all his wealth, was too poor to buy it, and God was too rich to sell it. It was all of grace, the free giving of God to one who could not merit His gift.
- Word — The little maid pointed to a prophet; Naaman half-heard her and filled in the rest with his own thoughts.
- Detour — The king of Syria knew only human help, so he made a healing into letters between two thrones.
- Price — The silver, gold and clothing show what he assumed: the cure could be bought or earned.
- Distance — The people who cared most kept the leper away from Elisha. Good will did not make the route right.
- Gift — The blessing could not be bought: Naaman was too poor to buy it, and God was too rich to sell it.
And he brought the letter to the king of Israel, saying, And now, when this letter comes to thee, behold, I have sent Naaman my servant to thee, that thou mayest cure him of his leprosy.
A letter travels from Syria to Israel with a demand no king could meet: cure my servant of his leprosy. Royal authority and a fortune in silver and gold stand behind it, yet it reaches the wrong man.
A slave girl in Naaman's house had told him about a prophet. Naaman went to his own king instead, and came away with a letter to the king of Israel — a name the girl never mentioned.
But Naaman did not know God as the maid knew Him. So he went armed with a letter from his own sovereign to the king of Israel. The healing, if it could be brought about, must come through official channels, with all due pomp and ceremony. But the maid said nothing about the king of Israel.
The king of Syria means well. He does what a powerful man naturally does: he writes to another powerful man.
"Well! Go, and I will send a letter to the king of Israel," said the king of Syria. This monarch is a complete stranger to the divine resources. He wants to treat the salvation of his servant as a matter between one king and another. That is a striking example of the world's lack of intelligence. It never once occurs to him that God can do something; since he is without God in the world, his only resource is men. The letter he writes to the king of Israel shows this: "When this letter reaches you, know that I have sent to you Naaman my servant, that you may cure him of his leprosy."
There is real goodwill behind the letter. But a throne has nothing God needs.
The king of Syria shows us man in his self-esteem. He is only too pleased that his servant Naaman should have the blessing, but he would like to be the channel through which he gets it. So he says, "Go, and I will send a letter to the king of Israel." One king will write to another king. But God does not require, and will not put up with, the patronage of kings. Grace is available to the guilty, whether that guilty one is among the exalted in the land or among the lowly — "a great man" or "a little maid." But the patronage of kings cannot secure it, and gold cannot buy it.
God was giving freely to people who had no claim on Him. The friends most eager to help Naaman were the ones keeping him from his cure.
God was acting through Elisha in free, sovereign, absolute grace, with no claim at all on the part of those who received it. The king of Syria naturally wanted to help Naaman, and just as naturally turned to the king of Israel to do it. Then, along with this, comes the need of money and so on. This too is gathered together — ten talents of silver, six thousand pieces of gold, and ten changes of clothing. So the poor leper is kept from Elisha, and kept from him by those who expressed the deepest concern for his welfare.
Naaman shared his king's assumption, and countless others have shared it since.
But at once, as happens with countless souls, he falls into the error of thinking he could earn or buy the blessing he wanted. The natural man never understands grace. … Surely, with a king's influence behind him and so much money, he will succeed in his quest.
The letter lands on Jehoram, king of Israel, who lives in the same land as the prophet.
No more than the king of Syria does this poor king of Israel know how to direct Naaman to the prophet who had done such great things in his own land. A little slave girl knows much more than he does. She took an interest in Naaman, which Jehoram could not do. She felt for his miserable condition, while the king was indifferent to it. She knew the resource the king ignored, though he had it within his reach.
People still make the same mistake, and one writer names the only place to go instead.
He goes to the king, not the prophet — he tries earthly power, not divine. The king is useless and gets alarmed… So, dear reader, do not go to man as your resource, but to God. Hear what He says of Jesus: "And there is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved" (Acts 4:12).
- Message. A servant girl named a prophet; the letter names a king. The detour begins the moment men improve on her word.
- Detour. Syria's king treats healing as business between thrones, because a man without God has only men to turn to.
- Price. Silver, gold and clothing travel with the letter, and all that generous help keeps the leper away from Elisha.
- Dead end. The letter reaches a king who has the answer inside his own borders and cannot point to it. A slave girl knew more than he did.
- Lesson. Royal patronage cannot secure the blessing. Gold cannot buy it. It is open to a great man and to a little maid alike.
And it came to pass when the king of Israel had read the letter, that he rent his garments, and said, Am I God, to kill and to make alive, that this man sends to me to cure a man of his leprosy? Wherefore consider, I pray you, and see how he seeks an occasion against me.
A letter from Syria's king reaches Jehoram with an impossible demand: heal his commander Naaman of leprosy. Israel's king sees a trap, not an open door, and his panicked question about killing and making alive is truer than he knows.
In his fright the king states the exact truth of the case. He names the one power that can heal Naaman.
Jehoram reads the letter, tears his garments, and cries out: "Am I God, to kill and to make alive, that this man sends word to me to cure a man of his leprosy?" God had His hand in this. He put into the mouth of this ungodly king the testimony that God alone — He who kills and who makes alive — can do such a work. And really, what can man do against the power of death, or what can he do to give life?
Jehoram's problem was not a lack of information. He had the facts and none of the trust that would have made the facts useful.
Deeply upset, he tore his clothes. He saw in this impossible demand the excuse his Syrian enemy would use to restart the war that had raged on and off for decades between their two lands. "Am I God, to kill and to make alive, that this man sends word to me to cure a man of his leprosy?" He knew God and knew the power of God. But he had no relationship to Him at all, and no thought of turning to Him for help in his trouble.
The king had no excuse. Commentators point back to what he had already seen and heard from God.
This was really shameful in Jehoram. God had taken great pains with this man to teach him that He is God. Had the king quite forgotten the water in the desert? (2 Kings 3:20). Had not God said, "I kill and I make alive; I wound and I heal"? (Deut. 32:39). Why did Jehoram not think at once of the prophet of God! Alas, flesh learns no lessons, however abundant God's favours may be.
The king's cry makes sense once you see what leprosy stood for. Commentators read the disease as a picture of sin in two ways.
In two ways leprosy is a fitting picture of sin. The disease is disgusting, and this shows how sin defiles, making man a sinner in his nature. The disease cannot be cured, and this shows the hopeless state to which sin reduces a man. As fallen men we are not only sinful in nature, but also without strength to change our state. If we are to be blessed, we are shut up to the grace of God.
Naaman came the way that seemed surest: a letter from his own king to Israel's king. That route fails here.
The king of Syria sets forth man in his self-esteem... So he says, "Go now, and I will send a letter to the king of Israel." One king will write to another king. But God does not require, and will not tolerate, the patronage of kings. Grace is available for the guilty, whether that guilty one is among the great in the land or among the lowly — "a great man" or "a little girl". But the patronage of kings cannot secure it, and gold cannot buy it.
Troubled people make the same mistake today. They look to a man for help instead of to God.
How many rest satisfied with following man's way of obtaining salvation instead of trusting Christ! Then, dear reader, do not go to man as your resource, but to God. Hear what He says of Jesus — "there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved" (Acts 4:12).
Elisha acts only after the king's despair is public. Commentators see God's timing in that order.
Elisha learns that the king had torn his clothes as a sign of his despair. It is then, and not before, that God steps in. To display His glory He wants man's helplessness put beyond doubt... His word condemned the king of Israel and brought grace to Naaman.
The king meant his question as a refusal. It still has an answer.
"Am I God, to kill and to make alive?" asked the distracted King of Israel. No; he was not; but Jesus was and is.
- Diagnosis. Leprosy pictures sin twice: it defiles, and no effort of the sufferer can cure it.
- Dead end. A royal letter and a fortune in gold prove that the patronage of kings cannot secure what only God can give.
And it was so, when Elisha the man of God had heard that the king of Israel had rent his garments, that he sent to the king, saying, Why hast thou rent thy garments? let him come now to me, and he shall know that there is a prophet in Israel.
The king of Israel has torn his clothes in panic over a letter he cannot answer. At that moment Elisha sends word, and the cure of a leprous Syrian becomes a matter of God's testimony in the land.
Elisha waits until the king is at the end of himself. The timing is part of the lesson, and the message carries a rebuke for a man who should have known better.
Elisha learns that the king had torn his clothes as a sign of his despair. It is then, and not before, that God steps in. He wants man's helplessness settled beyond doubt before He shows His glory. "Why have you torn your clothes? Let him come now to me, that he may know that there is a prophet in Israel" — a word suited to reach the king's conscience and condemn him. Did he know whom he should send Naaman to? Did he doubt that there was a prophet in Israel, and was he not responsible for this ignorance? His empty profession of faith exposed him to God's judgment more than the ignorance of Syria's idol-worshipping king did. But the prophet's word reaches someone else besides this king. It gives the knowledge of the true God to an unhappy man who does not know Him and who will find salvation with Him. His word condemned the king of Israel and brought grace to Naaman.
Naaman came with rank, money and a royal letter, and worked his way down the chain of power.
However, Naaman has to prove that all these human efforts to secure the blessing leave him in a worse plight. So he comes to the king of Israel with his gifts and the letter from the king of Syria. The king of Israel realises that this is a case for God alone. But he does not know the man of God through whom God ministers His grace. He has no faith in God, and he does not know the man of God. So he can only conclude that the king of Syria wants an excuse to quarrel, by demanding what no man has power to grant. Naaman discovers how hopeless it is to turn to a man of the world. It would seem then that all is over, and Naaman must return to Syria uncleansed and unblessed.
"Let him come now to me" is an invitation Naaman never thought to ask for. The same pattern holds for anyone who comes to Christ.
At this point, however, Elisha acts. Naaman had heard of the prophet at the start, but he never came. It now becomes plain that he would never have come if Elisha had not spoken. Nor is it otherwise with the sinner and Christ. We may indeed hear of Christ, but it is written, "No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him" (John 6:44).
The king held the office. Elisha held the power. One writer traces this back to how Elisha's ministry began.
Elisha in his ministry is a picture, in one aspect, of the power of Christ in resurrection. He was anointed to be prophet in place of Elijah (1 Kings 19:16). When Elijah went up to heaven in a chariot of fire, his master's mantle fell on him, with a "double portion of his spirit" (2 Kings 2:9-11). So in his ministry he became the sole channel of blessing to those whose hearts grace might open in the middle of idolatrous Israel.
Israel had lepers of its own. Why did God reach past them to a foreigner?
Our Lord Himself shows that the very heart of the teaching of this chapter is the grace that went out in sovereign freedom to visit the Gentiles. There were many lepers in Israel, but it was not there that grace worked. God was looking for the neediest where He could be least expected — where there was plainly no claim on Him.
God had no dwelling-place left in Israel. Yet He kept a witness there, in the capital city itself.
Samaria, the capital city of the kingdom, is now the place to which Elisha returns. Even the Gentile was to learn this: though God Himself had been denied a "dwelling-place" in Israel, He would still, in wonderful grace, send His servant to live in Samaria. So a Naaman might know that there is a prophet in Israel.
- Helplessness first. God stepped in only after the king despaired. He wants man's weakness settled before He shows His glory.
- Failure everywhere. Two kings, a letter and a load of gifts: every human channel left Naaman worse off. He still never thought of the prophet.
- The call comes down. Had Elisha not spoken, Naaman would have gone home a leper. No one comes to Christ unless the Father draws him.
- One channel only. Elisha pictures the power of Christ in resurrection. In an idolatrous nation, blessing flowed through him alone.
- Grace reaches outward. God passed by Israel's own lepers to reach a foreigner. Grace looks for need, not claim.
And Naaman came with his horses and with his chariot, and stood at the doorway of the house of Elisha.
Naaman commanded the Syrian army, and he was a leper. He arrives at the prophet's house in full military display — horses, chariot and all — yet none of it will get him through the door.
The king's power had done nothing for him, and the servant girl's word had pointed here all along.
At last he has come to the right man; but he has come in the wrong way. He is not yet in the right condition to receive the blessing. He comes with his horses and chariots and stands at the door of the house of Elisha. Horses and chariots speak of the pomp and pride of man. Naaman has found that the might of kings can achieve nothing, and that money and gifts are of no use. Now he must learn that his own greatness and importance will not win him the slightest notice from God. With God there is no respect of persons.
He stops at the door and waits. The world had taught him what a man of his rank was owed.
This great man knew nothing as yet. He comes to the prophet "with his horses and chariots," witnesses to the power of man. He stands "at the door of Elisha's house," expecting the signs of respect the world said he was owed. But his power, his dignity and his merits have no value when it comes to entering into relationship with God. That is the first lesson he must learn.
Naaman was not simply proud. Getting to this door had already cost him a great deal.
He had already humbled himself a great deal to be blessed. He was following the advice of a mere servant girl. He was asking a favour in the land of a beaten enemy. And he was now waiting with all his equipment at the humble lodging of Elisha. Surely no one could expect him to come down any lower! But he had to come down much lower before God could meet him. Human nature in every age resents this coming down. A hard pilgrimage, a heavy pledge, or a huge fee would suit us today better than God's simple terms. Those terms are salvation by grace alone, through faith in our Lord Jesus Christ.
His heart, his manner and his expectations were all wrong. A message still came out to him.
But he has come to the door of Elisha. Whatever the state of his soul, the message of salvation cannot be kept from him. He was a seeking soul, and such are never turned away.
Elisha never steps outside to greet him. That was not rudeness.
The prophet could not go out to Naaman. That would have put both of them in a false position. Instead he sends out to him this gracious announcement of the means of healing and cure.
The soldier at the door comes from the nation that had beaten Israel and carried off its captives.
The whole scene seems to be a foreshadowing of the present age. In this age Israel is set aside, and governmental power is given to the Gentiles. The times of the Gentiles are pictured here. The Lord had given deliverance to the Syrians — the open enemy of Israel — and the Syrians had taken captives from Israel. The power had passed to the Gentile, and an Israelite woman is in captivity. During this time the Lord shows grace to the Gentile.
- Arrival. Naaman has come to the right man, but in the wrong way. Reaching the door is not the same as being ready.
- Display. The horses and chariot speak of the pomp and pride of man. With God there is no respect of persons, so all that greatness wins him no notice.
- Descent. He had already humbled himself a great deal to get there. He still had to come down lower, and human nature in every age resents that.
- Welcome. He arrived in the wrong state, and the message still came out to him. A seeking soul is never turned away.
- Reach. An enemy commander stands at an Israelite prophet's door. Israel is set aside, and God shows grace to a Gentile.
And Elisha sent a messenger to him, saying, Go and wash in the Jordan seven times, and thy flesh shall come again to thee, and thou shalt be clean.
A Syrian army commander, sick with leprosy, pulls up at Elisha's door with his horses and chariots. The prophet never comes out to meet him. Instead a servant carries out one short sentence. It names a river he would not have chosen, and it sets the number of washings for him. Everything turns on whether a great man will do a small thing.
Elisha stays inside and sends his instruction through a messenger. One writer sees in that arrangement a picture of how God still speaks to people today.
Instead of coming in person, the prophet sent a messenger to him; it is the same today with the written Word. This message alone is enough to heal the leper. The Word reveals all the thoughts of God, so it contains a thousand other things besides this message. But this message, addressed to sinful man, contains only one thing. It is the most basic thing of all — the remedy for sin — and there is no other… The prophet does not need to come in person; his word has the same value as himself, for it is the Word of God. And much more, the remedy is not to be sought; it already exists… Naaman thought, "The prophet will do"; Elisha sends to tell him, "God has done." He appeals to nothing but faith. Naaman must believe what God has told him — not because the cure makes sense, and not because it looks possible, but because God has said it.
Nothing in the wording flatters the visitor. Elisha addresses the disease and nothing else.
Horses and chariots speak of the pomp and pride of man. Naaman has found that the might of kings can achieve nothing, and that money and gifts are of no use. He must now learn that his own greatness and importance will not gain him the slightest notice from God, who shows no favouritism. So he hears the message that will bring salvation to him if he receives and obeys it. Yet his greatness counts for nothing. Elisha does not look at him as a great man, or honourable, or brave. He sees in him only a leper who needs cleansing… He just sends a message.
Two details in the command carry meaning: the river named, and the number of washings.
The Jordan River is the river of death. It flows into the Dead Sea, which has no outlet. So the command in effect told Naaman to wash in the death of Christ, which is the only way of salvation. The seven times was a test of his submission. Seven is the number of completeness, so Naaman had to submit completely to the Lord in self-judgment.
Naaman would have preferred the rivers back home. One writer reads that preference as a choice people still make.
The rivers of his own country represent the sources of earth. So they teach us that Naaman was willing to be cured in a human way rather than a divine one. In other words, like many a poor sinner since, he would rather be reformed than born again. How many fall into this trap! They will accept the need of a moral change, but not of the new birth. The first makes everything of man, while the last makes everything of God.
The verse promises that his flesh will be restored. One writer draws a distinction from the element Naaman used.
Let us not misunderstand this picture. Not blood, but water was the element in which Naaman dipped himself. Cleansing by blood has to do with what a man has done, for nothing but atoning blood can put away sins. Cleansing by water has to do with what a man is, as one born into a ruined family line. In God's great plan, the sinner must be got rid of as well as his sins… "His flesh was restored like the flesh of a little child." So to speak, he made a new start with God.
One writer sets Elisha's sentence beside the message preachers carry today.
What is the plain, simple message sent to Naaman? "Go and wash in the Jordan … and you shall be clean." And what is the message, just as plain and simple, to you? "Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved." The preacher may have often repeated the simple way of salvation in your ears. It is too much for your pride to bear… Naaman said, "Behold I THOUGHT." His brain was busy, and it only put his thoughts in front of God's.
- Word. The prophet stays inside and sends one sentence. His word carries the same weight as he does, so the message alone heals.
- Wash. The Jordan is the river of death, running into a sea with no outlet, so the command sends Naaman to wash in the death of Christ.
- Seven. The number tests his submission. Seven is completeness, so he holds nothing back.
- Clean. Water deals with what a man is, not only what he has done — and his flesh is restored like a little child's — a new start with God.
- Pride. The offence is the plainness. His own rivers would have reformed him by human means, while "Go and wash" leaves everything to God.
And Naaman was wroth, and went away and said, Behold, I thought, He will certainly come out to me, and stand, and call on the name of Jehovah his God, and wave his hand over the place, and cure the leper.
Naaman has travelled from Syria with his horses and chariots, and he stops at Elisha's door expecting a welcome fit for a great man. Instead a servant brings him a one-line message, and his reaction exposes what had been blocking his healing.
Naaman came with a plan of his own already drawn up. Two words in this verse give it away.
Nature, however, rebels against such treatment. The pride of man would like to have some consideration. But if Naaman is to receive the blessing, it can only be on the ground of grace. Grace recognises no merit in the one who receives it. Otherwise it would not be grace. This is why sovereign grace is so offensive to the natural man. "Naaman was angry," and the real hindrance to his receiving blessing turns out to be that he had thoughts of his own. "I thought" is the trouble.
He had the whole scene worked out in advance. God rarely works like that.
The wisdom of God delights in everyday scenes and materials. They rebuke the mistaken thought of man's heart: that important things must be done or said by impressive methods — that the prophet must come out and wave his hand over the place. But it is with rough and unpolished instruments that both the wisdom of God and the power of God are commonly seen. Rams' horns blew down Jericho, and fishermen turned the world upside down, as was said of them.
Commentators differ slightly on the gesture itself: some read the waving hand as a dignified religious flourish, others simply as Naaman's idea of how a cure should look.
He sat in his chariot, and he expected the prophet to come out to him. That detail is the whole problem in miniature — the leper wanted the healer to attend on him.
Notice the effect. "Naaman was angry." And why? First, because Elisha had not treated him with greater personal consideration. Sitting outside in his chariot, he expected the prophet to come out to him. Naaman the leper would have Elisha cure him as though Elisha were his servant. But no! The sinner must take the place of a beggar — indeed, as having nothing and deserving nothing — before he can receive grace. Besides, who was Naaman, to tell the prophet how he should proceed? It is always the same; the sinner expects to be saved in his own way.
Naaman was a great and honoured man in Syria, and he had brought his reputation and his money with him.
It was not only the simplicity or the brevity of the message sent out to Naaman which made that "great and honourable" man stumble. Elisha also refused to treat the glory which marked him out among men as of any account before God. His gifts, too, would have opened doors for him in his own world. In the presence of God they were completely worthless.
He turned away furious. Yet the very heat of his reaction is read as a hopeful sign rather than a hopeless one.
Well, if he must go away, it is better to go in a rage, for at least it shows he was deeply stirred. Better that than those who politely refuse God's grace with a "Please excuse me." For such people there is no hope. God excuses them, and it is all over with the man that God excuses. For the man who goes away in a rage there is hope that he will return in a more humbled mood, for at least he is in earnest.
The words "Behold, I thought" are not only Naaman's. Pride still wants to earn what God only gives.
Yes! Jesus our Lord alone upheld and set out in attractive brightness the great essential truth, so new to mankind in all states and ages: "the gift of God." Every soul needs to face and learn this truth for itself — that God is the Giver, and will be nothing else to sinful man. Our pride does not like it. Rich or poor, high or low, we want to earn from Him. We are unwilling to be in debt to nothing but mercy in Christ. "If the prophet had told you to do some great thing, would you not have done it?" is the feeling of the heart now, as truly as it was for Naaman the Syrian. May you, if still unblessed, give up "Behold, I thought," and, believing in Christ, be able to say, "Behold, now I know."
- Thought. "I thought" was the real obstacle. Not the leprosy, but the plan Naaman had drawn up for his own cure.
- Theatre. He wanted a ceremony. God works through plain and unimpressive means, like rams' horns and fishermen.
- Throne. He sat in his chariot waiting to be served. Grace comes only to those who take the place of a beggar, having nothing and deserving nothing.
- Titles. His rank and his gifts opened every door in Syria. Before God they counted for nothing.
- Turn. Rage is not the end. A man in earnest can still give up "I thought" and come to say "now I know."
Are not the Abanah and the Pharpar, rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? may I not wash in them and be clean? And he turned and went away in a rage.
Abana and Pharpar were the pride of his homeland, and he sets them against the whole water supply of Israel. One writer notes the scorn buried in the comparison:
He exclaims scornfully: "Are not Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them and be clean?" So he turned and went away in a rage. His thoughts and his pride travel back to his native land. In his imagination he feasts his eyes on those broad, stately streams, Abana and Pharpar, which flowed from Lebanon's mountains through the fertile plains of Syria and Damascus, Abana flowing right through the proud city of Damascus, its pride and delight. He indignantly demands: "Could I not wash in them and be clean?" He does not even stoop to call the Jordan a river.
The contempt ran both ways between the two nations, and this verse is where the Syrian's side of it surfaces:
If men in Israel felt scorn for the uncircumcised Syrian (as shown by the anger of the men of Nazareth in our Lord's day), the Syrian returned that scorn on them to the full. He could even rail against their streams! "Are not Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them and be clean?"
Nothing in the message was hard to do. What stung Naaman was that it treated him like anybody else.
Naaman had expected some dramatic scene — to have a fuss made over him — and instead this prince among men is put off with a curt message. He is told, as any poor man might be, to go and bathe seven times in the public stream of Jordan. The whole thing seemed too ordinary for the high and mighty Naaman. The message ignored all his greatness. It placed him on a level with the most insignificant person in the land, and told him to take a course open to any peasant. Such treatment and such a message were intolerable to the great man.
Behind the outburst sits the phrase from the previous verse that he cannot let go of — his own idea of how the cure should be done:
The Lord has given us Naaman's thoughts for our instruction (verses 11, 12), and his bitterest enemy could not have done him more deadly harm than his own mind was doing at that moment. Does he stand alone in setting aside what the prophets have spoken and attaching such huge importance to his own thoughts? Not at all. "I thought" is leading many to eternal ruin, and hindering the peace of not a few.
Commentators read the rivers as a picture of what people substitute for God's remedy.
These rivers represent the sources of earth, and so teach us that Naaman was willing to be cured in a human way rather than a divine one. In other words, like many a poor sinner since, he would rather be reformed than be born again. How many fall into this trap! They will accept the need of a moral change, but not of the new birth; for the first makes everything of man, while the last makes everything of God. So Naaman will not be healed on such terms, and he "went away in a rage."
The rivers themselves make the point, since neither one ever reaches the sea:
Just as the broad Damascus rivers rise in the mountains, make their steady way through Syria's capital, flow out into the desert and lose themselves there, never finding their way to the sea — so man's streams rise on man's high ground, flow through this poor scene, are lost in the desert of man's imagination, and never pass into eternity.
The choice of river was not arbitrary, and one writer answers Naaman's question directly:
Death! — but, says Naaman, there are the rivers of Damascus, the Abanah and the Pharpar; are they not better than the Jordan? No. A death that does not flow through the land of God's promises is powerless to purify the sinner. Far from being his deliverance, it would be his condemnation, for it is appointed to men once to die, and after that the judgment. The Jordan is not a type of that death, but of the death of Christ — of our death borne by Him to deliver us, which we will never have to undergo.
The rage is not the end of the story. His servants reason with him, and everything in this verse is dropped:
His pride, his greatness, his courage, all that he was as a natural man, is given up as a means of obtaining the blessing. Kings and their great gifts are left behind: Abana and Pharpar are forgotten, and in the obedience of faith he went down and dipped seven times in Jordan.
- Pride speaks. Naaman's question is a boast about his homeland and a snub to Israel — he will not even grant the Jordan the name of river.
- Pride prescribes. His "I thought" from the verse before fuels this one. His own idea of the cure harmed him more than any enemy could.
- Pride substitutes. The two rivers stand for a human cure in place of God's — reformation instead of new birth. Reformation makes everything of man; new birth makes everything of God.
- Pride's rivers run dry. Abana and Pharpar vanish in the desert and never reach the sea. Only the Jordan pictures the death of Christ, and only that death cleanses.
- Pride surrenders. When Naaman at last goes down into the Jordan, his greatness, the gifts and the two rivers are all forgotten together.
And his servants drew near, and spoke to him and said, My father, [if] the prophet had bidden thee [do some] great thing, wouldest thou not have done it? how much rather then, when he says to thee, Wash and be clean?
Naaman has just turned away in a rage: the cure offered to him was too simple for a man of his rank. Now his own servants come near, call him "my father," and reason with him — and that reasoning turns him around.
Naaman's rescue comes through a chain of ordinary helpers, each doing a different job. One writer traces the whole line, from the servant girl in the household to the men now reasoning with him.
The little servant girl had given her witness. The prophet had delivered his message — so simple and so clear. Now "his servants come near" and plead with him about that message. Some today do the work of that little girl — they invite people to the preaching. There are those who deliver the message — the proclamation of the gospel. Others plead with the anxious soul one to one, clearing away the difficulties that keep people from receiving the gospel.
We are told nothing about who these servants were. What they said, however, has outlived them, and one writer thought it belonged in permanent use.
His servants now step onto the scene. Who they were we do not know; but whoever they were, they had divine intelligence... These words — words which need to be used again and again wherever the gospel is preached — were carried home with power.
The older translation these writers quote puts the servants' words as a comparison: if the prophet had asked for some great deed, Naaman would have done it. One writer imagines the kind of order he would have welcomed.
If the prophet had told him to do SOME GREAT THING, the weakened leper would gladly have tried even the impossible. Suppose he had said, "An enemy force is dug in on that height. For years we have tried to drive them off. General Naaman, take a few of your picked men, scale those heights, and rid us of our foes." See how his eyes flash with pride. See his hand grasp the jewelled hilt of his sword. Hear him call in triumph for volunteers.
This instinct is not Naaman's alone. Another writer applies the same words to religious duty today.
My church tells me to fast; to keep the vows of my order; in fact, to keep all the orders of my church. Is it not far better to wash in these rivers of my own religion, than simply to believe God about the death of Christ? Well, try hard; wash, wash, wash. But out of all the millions who wash in the rivers of man's own religions, find me one who is clean from sin... All nations bear witness what man will do (if doing would do it) to get clean from sin.
Naaman had brought his greatness with him. Elisha's short instruction gave none of it any weight.
It was not only the simple, short message that tripped up that "great and honourable" man. Elisha also refused to treat the glory that marked him out among men as counting for anything before God. His gifts, too, would have opened doors for him in his own world. In the presence of God they were worth nothing.
That stripping is why he resented the cure — and why he needed it.
He rejects the remedy which grace had provided, because it humbled him into the dust and stripped him of his pride. It is just this that the sinner needs. Naaman had to learn that he was nothing but a poor, lost leper. All his silver and gold could not buy cleansing for him. He needed humiliation and the obedience of faith.
The servants argue from the greater to the lesser: you would try the hard thing, so why refuse the easy one? One writer borrows their reasoning and aims it at anyone counting on their own effort.
Now, my friend, how do YOU think you are going to be saved? You reply, "If I do the best I can — if I pray, give freely to the poor and to the church, and do all I can towards my salvation — I shall surely get it." We would gladly borrow the logic of these Syrian servants and reason with you: "How much more, then, when God says to you, 'Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved'?" Like Naaman, you want to do some great thing that suits the pride of your heart.
The servants' plea is one link in a series, and each link lowered him further.
Notice the number of means the Lord used to humble the great man. First, a little slave girl's message. Then he was sent to a lowly prophet rather than the king. Then a messenger told him to wash seven times in Jordan. Then his servants pleaded with him to change his mind. Finally he dipped in Jordan seven times. Those things were all humbling, but they led to Naaman's great blessing.
- Pride blocks. Naaman's anger was not at a hard command but at a small one. His rank, his gifts and his own ideas all had to go first.
- Servants plead. God used a captive girl, a messenger and household servants. The servants cleared away the last objection between their master and the cure.
- Great thing tempts. He would have stormed a mountain gladly. Every religion of effort shows the same instinct, and none of it makes anyone clean.
- Logic persuades. If you would try the hard thing, why not the easy one? That argument still meets everyone who would rather do something than simply believe.
- Humbling blesses. Every step down was a wound to his greatness, and every step down was the road to his healing.
Then he went down, and plunged himself seven times in the Jordan, according to the saying of the man of God. And his flesh became again like the flesh of a little child, and he was clean.
Naaman commanded Syria's army, and he left the prophet's door in a rage because the cure offered him was so small. Verse 14 is where that great man dips himself in a muddy river and comes out with the skin of a child.
Naaman had to leave everything he had built his life on at the bank.
How well these servants knew their master. He was a great man, and all his life he had been doing great things. That is how he gained his great position in the kingdoms of men. But to enter the kingdom of heaven, he must be converted and become like a little child. And so it happened. The pleading of the servants won, for we read, "So he went down." He gave up his pride, his greatness, his courage — all that he was as a natural man — as a way of getting the blessing. Kings and their great gifts are left behind.
Jordan was not about clean water. Naaman's dip was an admission about himself.
Jordan means death. The meaning of Naaman's act is this: he bowed under the just judgment of God against man's sin. He accepted death as the expression of God's righteous judgment on the sinner. He dipped himself seven times, and that teaches us he did it without reserve — perfectly, if you like. He acknowledged God's claims on him to the full, and bowed before the sentence of death which He had passed on the sinner. It was the submission of the sinner to the rights of a holy God.
The prophet told Naaman to wash, not to bring a sacrifice. That difference matters.
Let us not misunderstand this picture. Naaman dipped himself in water, not blood. Cleansing by blood has to do with what a man has done. Nothing but atoning blood can put away sins. Cleansing by water has to do with what a man is — a branch of a ruined stock. In God's great plan, the sinner must be got rid of as well as his sins.
Six dips changed nothing. The number came with the command, so obeying meant going under again while nothing changed.
He goes into the flowing stream a poor, dying, loathsome leper. He dips himself in the water as God commanded, once, and comes up a leper. He repeats it, and time after time comes up still the poor leper. At last down he goes for the seventh time, and the water flows over the leper. But, thank God, he comes up cleansed. His flesh is like the flesh of a little child, with not one trace of disease on him. Jordan's stream held such wonderful power because it was God's place. The dipping seven times was the plan. His word was the power.
The cure did more than undo the leprosy.
Naaman tried the offered fountain and proved its power, and the flesh that was leprous became like that of a little child. It is more than restoration. It is resurrection. Jordan was a true baptism to this Syrian. He dies and lives again, he is buried and rises again, and comes out, not merely as a healed man, but as a new creature.
Naaman went down "according to the word of the man of God." That phrase, not the river, explains the cure.
Naaman did not prove the healing power of Jordan's waters. He proved the power of the prophet's word, and that Israel's God really was a Saviour God. "God is not man, that he should lie, or a son of man, that he should change his mind. Has he said, and will he not do it? Or has he spoken, and will he not fulfill it?" (Numbers 23:19). He dipped seven times in Jordan. His humble submission was complete, and so was his cleansing.
Naaman did not go home wondering whether it had worked.
People today ask, "Can anyone know they are saved?" Naaman knew he was cured. Just as he knew he was cured, we know we are saved. He had the assurance of the blessing. If you believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, you will have the assurance of salvation.
Commentators differ on how far to press the picture. One writer keeps it to the body:
Naaman's leprosy was a disease of the body. His healing depended on his acting on the word the Lord declared through Elisha... Divine life is not in question.
- Down. Naaman had to leave his greatness on the bank. A great man had to become like a little child to be cleansed.
- Death. Jordan stands for death. Dipping in it was Naaman's agreement with God's judgment on him — submission, not ceremony.
- Water, not blood. Blood answers what a man has done; water answers what a man is. The sinner himself, not only his sins, must be dealt with.
- Seven. Six dips left him a leper. The power lay in God's place, God's plan and God's word — obedience held on until the cure came.
- Clean. The result was more than repair. It was resurrection — new flesh, a new creature, and a man who knew he was clean.
And he returned to the man of God, he and all his company, and came and stood before him; and he said, Behold, I know that there is no God in all the earth but in Israel; and now, I pray thee, take a present of thy servant.
Naaman has just washed in the Jordan, and his flesh has come back clean. Now he goes back to Elisha, and the verse shows what a healed man does first: he stands, he confesses, and he tries to pay.
The change in Naaman shows in his body before it shows in his words. He had come to Elisha's door as a great man in a chariot.
The result for Naaman was that his flesh came again like the flesh of "a little child." What a marvellous change! The story calls him "a great man" at the beginning. At the end he becomes like "a little child." What is more, a new spirit had taken hold of him. The pride of a great man has given way to the lowliness of a little child. We read, "Then he returned to the man of God, he and all his company, and he came and stood before him." He is no longer a great man sitting in his chariot, but a humble man standing before the prophet.
The healing gave him clean skin. His words show he received something more than that.
This, however, is not all. He has believed in his heart; now he confesses with his mouth, "There is no God in all the earth, but in Israel." Not only is he cleansed, but he is brought to know God. "I know," he can say. The gospel that meets our need reveals God to our souls.
Another writer traces the same movement — from the cure to the One who gave it:
As soon as Naaman had experienced this power by simple faith in the divine word, thankfulness brought him before the prophet. He is now put into direct relation, no longer with the work, but with the Person who has accomplished it; he is brought to God.
He does not say it to Elisha alone. His whole travelling party hears it — men who had watched him win battles against Israel.
The one who has received blessing from God is bound to be grateful, and his lips hurry to make their due confession. So we find Naaman returning from the Jordan to the house of Elisha. In front of all his attendants he said, "Behold, I know that there is no God in all the earth but in Israel." That was a great deal for the famous captain to say. He had won victory after victory over that people. But God, not men, was now before his soul, and God had become his light and his salvation. How could he do anything but publicly confess Him!
Earlier this same man had wanted the cure on his own terms.
"Behold, I thought," revealed the pride of a corrupt heart. In the matter of salvation, such a heart would dictate terms to God. But the light of God had still dawned on him. So in the end we hear him confess it: "Behold, I know that there is no God in all the earth but in Israel." What an amazing discovery! And in what a way of grace to make it! The only God in all the earth had been found by a poor Gentile leper — found, too, in Israel's land, while Israel's king certainly did not acknowledge Him.
Naaman asks Elisha to accept a present, and Elisha refuses. The refusal protects what Naaman has just received.
In the beginning, Naaman had wanted to give in order to receive; now he wants to give because he has received, but that may not be. He must learn that when God gives, it is to give again, for His riches are inexhaustible. His work is entirely free. He allows nothing that might even give the impression that He is anything other than a free Giver.
Naaman had spent his life in a world where money settled everything.
Elisha refuses the gift in case he should in any way appear to falsify the grace of God in the eyes of this Gentile, who had received the blessing without money and without price. Naaman owned great wealth. He had no doubt picked up the habit of thinking that money could buy anything. He has to learn, as the sinner does today, that some things cannot be bought. There are blessings beyond all other blessings, joys beyond all earthly joys, and the life that is eternal. All the riches of this world cannot buy them. Worse still, those riches may block the road that leads to life and blessing.
- Returned. The healed man goes straight back to the prophet. He no longer rides in his chariot; he stands before him like a servant.
- Known. The cure led him past the gift to the Giver. He is not only clean; he knows God, and can say so: "I know."
- Confessed. Belief in the heart came out of his mouth, in front of his whole company — whatever it cost a famous captain to say it.
- Found. A foreign leper found the only God in all the earth — and found Him in a land whose own king did not acknowledge Him.
- Free. Elisha refuses the payment, so nothing can make the blessing look bought. What God gives, He gives without money — and He gives so that He can give again.
But he said, As Jehovah liveth, before whom I stand, I will receive none! And he urged him to take it; but he refused.
Naaman has just come up out of the Jordan clean, and he wants to pay for it. What Elisha does with the silver and the gold will shape the God this Syrian soldier carries home.
Naaman's offer is not a bribe. It is thanks. He has confessed the God of Israel in front of his whole company, and now he wants to leave something behind. Elisha still says no, and one writer points to what was at stake.
In his gratitude he would leave a tangible blessing behind him. He had brought ten talents of silver, six thousand pieces of gold and ten changes of clothing with him from Syria. Payment was doubtless his thought when he started out; to leave behind him a grateful offering was now his heart's desire. But the circumstances forbade Elisha to accept it. "As the LORD lives, before whom I stand, I will receive none." Even strong pressure from Naaman would not make him touch what he had brought. The healing of the Syrian was meant as a picture of completely free grace to people outside Israel. Gold and silver changing hands must not spoil that picture.
Naaman had wealth in abundance, and he had already seen God's power. One commentator names what he still had to learn.
He was already convinced about the power of God. Now he had to learn what His grace was. This is a hard lesson for a proud man to learn. Riches may be money, or fame, or self-righteousness. Naaman had plenty of such wealth, but it did not and could not cure his leprosy. And it certainly cannot atone for a sinner's sins or save his soul. I am sure Naaman learnt the great lesson as he stood before Elisha: God will not sell His blessing. There were two reasons. With all his wealth, Naaman was too poor to buy the blessing, and God was too rich to sell it.
after_note: DISCUSS
Naaman's motive had changed since his first journey. One commentator weighs that change, and says why the prophet still refuses.
He draws near and desires to give Him something, to offer Him a present. This is the devotion of a heart that understands that he owes everything to the God who has delivered him. But despite his insistence, the prophet refuses. In the beginning, Naaman had wanted to give so as to receive; now he wants to give because he has received, but that may not be. He must learn that when God gives, it is to give again, for His riches are inexhaustible. His work is free from start to finish. So He allows nothing that might even seem to give Him a different character.
Elisha does not simply decline the gift. He names his position, and that phrase has a settled meaning.
To stand before another is to place oneself at the other's disposal, to occupy, in fact, the position of a servant. We read, for example, of Gehazi. After he had followed Naaman and obtained from him the talents of silver and the changes of clothing, he went in and "stood before" his master, so taking up his place of service again. It is a blessed position and attitude, because it holds the two great principles of the Christian life: dependence and obedience.
Gehazi runs after Naaman and takes what Elisha refused. The punishment matches the offence.
With a heart untouched by the display of God's grace and power towards this stranger, he only thought how he might use him to his own selfish ends. He was covetous. By deceit and lies he got what he wanted. He did not care that his wicked conduct might confuse Naaman's ideas of grace, and so dishonour the God of Israel. His sinful act might make the Syrian think that after all the gift of God could be paid for, if not purchased. So the punishment that fell on him was severe.
One writer sets Elisha's refusal beside the Lord Jesus, who healed people and then claimed nothing from them.
He claims nothing on the ground of what He did in the way of service. Grace, I may say, would not so dishonour itself. Its nature is to give, and not to receive; to impart to others, and not to enrich itself. The time for healing must not be the time for demanding. Elisha's spirit could not bear the thought of taking money, clothing, sheep and oxen after he had cleansed a leper. And the spirit of the prophet was but the faint breathing of the spirit of the Son.
- Free. God healed Naaman without money. A payment afterwards would have made the cure look bought.
- Freely given. He was too poor to buy the blessing and God too rich to sell it — the gift stays a gift.
- Free to give again. When God gives, it is to give more. His riches are never used up.
- Free servant. Elisha stands before the Lord, at His disposal, with nothing of his own to trade.
- Freely lost. Gehazi took what his master refused. He blurred grace and carried away the leper's disease.
And Naaman said, If not, then let there, I pray thee, be given to thy servant two mules' burden of [this] earth; for thy servant will no more offer burnt-offering and sacrifice to other gods, but to Jehovah.
Naaman commanded the Syrian army, and washing in the Jordan has just cured his leprosy. So the healed man asks for the one thing nobody would think to want: dirt — enough Israelite soil for two mules to carry home.
Elisha has just turned down the treasure. That refusal shapes what Naaman asks for instead.
He draws near and wants to give Him something, to offer Him a present. But despite his insistence, the prophet refuses. At first Naaman had wanted to give so that he might receive; now he wants to give because he has received, but that may not be. He must learn that when God gives, it is to give again, for His riches never run out… He asks for a small thing, but one of great importance to him. God had set before him a little thing that brought him a great salvation! He cannot stay in Canaan. So he wants to carry home just enough of the land of promise to raise an altar for sacrifice there. In this way he sets up the worship of the true God. In this "two mules' burden" he takes Canaan with him. The world is far from God and offers him no place at all for true worship. So God will be like a little sanctuary to him.
The change in Naaman is God's work, and it shows in what he now values.
How perfect is divine workmanship! Only a little before, he had spoken with contempt of "the waters of Israel." Now he begs for two mules' burden of earth! Suppose someone had told him earlier that this earth was a necessary condition of his cleansing. He might have thought it a pointless burden. But his mind had changed. The very soil of the land of Israel was now sacred to him. There he had come to know God as Jehovah Rophi — "the LORD, your healer."
Why soil and not stone? One writer points to God's own command about altars.
Back home, he would raise a testimony to Jehovah. He would not use cut stone, which is the product of human effort. His altar was to be of earth only, following God's command in Exodus 20:24. Whatever the cost, he would confess Jehovah in the face of all the idolatry of Syria. This is the spirit that is a delight to God in all ages.
The altar itself is a picture of a Person.
The altar speaks of the person of Christ, as Hebrews 13:10 implies. He Himself shows in Matthew 23:19-20 that the altar is greater than the gift placed on it. In other words, the person of Christ is greater than His wonderful work of redemption. But this altar of earth reminds us of the lowliness of the Manhood of the Lord Jesus in His earthly path of sorrow.
One writer lists three things the cleansing gave Naaman, and links this request to one of them.
Naaman received three things along with his cleansing: an enlarged heart, an enlightened understanding, and an exercised conscience… His enlightened understanding shows itself when he asks for two mules' burden of earth to build an altar to the God of Israel.
Naaman had learned more than where the true God is found.
To have learned only that there is no God in all the earth except in Israel could bring Naaman nothing but sorrow, for he lived in Syria, not there. But this was not all that he had learned. He had learned the true character of God Himself. God had put him in the position of a worshipper — cleansed, accepted, and welcome to draw near, just like the heirs of promise. Naaman was to go back to his own land with all the riches he had brought. The riches had been refused, but he had been cleansed and accepted.
His pledge is not payment. It is what a rescued man owes the One who rescued him.
He truly belonged to the God who had given him this new life, and he had to own this in the dark land he was returning to… He has a sacrifice to offer. It is not for his salvation, because the offering of Jesus Christ once for all has made him perfect forever… He offers it because he is saved and belongs to his Saviour.
- Cured — the cleansing came free. Elisha refuses every gift, so nothing looks like a price for what God gave.
- Convinced — the man who scorned Israel's waters now treasures Israel's soil. Changed desires show a changed heart.
- Cargo — two mules' loads of earth are for an altar of earth, as God commanded in Exodus 20:24, with no human shaping.
- Christ — the altar pictures the Person of Christ, and the earth points to the lowliness of His Manhood.
- Claim — he will sacrifice to no god but the LORD. That is the answer of a man who knows he belongs to his Saviour, wherever he lives, whatever it costs.
In this thing Jehovah pardon thy servant when my master goes into the house of Rimmon to bow down there, and he leans on my hand, and I bow down myself in the house of Rimmon -- when I bow down myself in the house of Rimmon, Jehovah pardon thy servant, I pray thee, in this thing.
Naaman is healed of leprosy, and he has just declared that Israel's God is the only God. Yet his job still takes him into a pagan temple at his king's side, where he must bow — so he asks for pardon in advance.
Who was Rimmon? A Bible dictionary answers in one line:
A Syrian idol at Damascus. 2 Kings 5:18.
The word Naaman uses for "pardon" is the word Scripture reserves for one speaker. It is salach, "to pass over," forgive —
used only of God's forgiveness. Ex. 34:9; Num. 14:19-20; 2 Kings 5:18; 2 Kings 24:4; Neh. 9:17; Ps. 25:11; Isa. 55:7; Jer. 5:1, 7; Jer. 33:8; Jer. 50:20; Lam. 3:42.
Commentators read this awkward question as one of the clearest proofs that Naaman was genuinely changed. He had just promised to sacrifice to no other god, and immediately he saw what that promise would cost him at work:
Lastly, he has an exercised heart. The worship of the true God and of idols cannot co-exist. Naaman feels this at once: to know and worship the true God must shut out every recognition of false gods. So he tells Elisha his difficulty about attending his master in the house of Rimmon. Light is what makes everything plain, and now the true character of the worship of Rimmon stands revealed to Naaman's soul.
Nothing about his position had altered. He was going back to the same court, the same king, the same ceremony. What had altered was how the ceremony felt:
This is not the case of a man breaking with old associations or leaving evil habits behind. It is the case of a changed man returning to his responsible position in the service of the king of Syria. To worship Jehovah and obey Him would not be easy among people who worshipped idols... Until now he had liked standing close to his royal master on every state occasion and sharing in the worship of Rimmon. It even flattered him as a distinguished courtier. But the very thing which formerly fed his pride is now distasteful, and becomes an act of sin calling for judgment if not pardoned.
His attendance was not optional. He goes in as the man whose arm the king leans on:
He had to go there. But he would take part in this idolatrous worship unwillingly, so he asked Elisha that the Lord would pardon him for this (v.18).
The prophet's reply — "Go in peace" — has troubled readers. It sounds like approval. One writer answers that it is neither approval nor a rule:
He did not tell him to go, for this would be to sanction idolatry. He did not tell him not to go, for this would be placing him under a yoke of legality. He simply says, "Go in peace." That threw Naaman back on the grace he had already known, and on the working of a conscience now enlightened.
Another writer makes the same restraint a model for anyone teaching a new believer:
Every newborn soul has struggles of conscience as it returns to its old surroundings. A teacher taught by God, as Elisha was, would never give a license in doubtful matters. But he would be just as unwilling to load the conscience by demanding a pledge. Left alone with God, the soul that only wants to please Him will soon learn what is fitting, and God will surely give the grace to carry it out.
Did Naaman ever bow in that temple again? One writer sees Elisha's answer as a deliberate refusal to settle the question early, and he has no doubt how it ended:
The prophet, with divine wisdom that we would do well to copy, refuses to anticipate the difficulty. He saw that Naaman's conscience was at work. He knew that if Naaman felt the difficulty before he left his presence, he would feel it much more by the time he reached Syria... In other words, he committed and commended him to the Lord, and we may be quite sure that Naaman never entered the house of Rimmon.
Another writer applies the same answer to every fear about tomorrow:
He must learn that the difficulties he anticipates do not exist for God and, as far as his conduct is concerned, the Lord would watch over him, daily supplying him the light needed for every step... Do not preoccupy yourself with this matter; do not let yourself be robbed of your joy by the thought of what may happen to you. God is powerful to provide for everything. What is important today is that you go in peace, with no question between yourself and the God who has saved you. Leave tomorrow's task to tomorrow.
- Cleansing — Naaman asks this only because he is already healed and already knows the true God.
- Conscience — his awkward question is the proof of the change. Light had shown him what the house of Rimmon really was.
- Collision — his job had not changed, his heart had. The ceremony that once flattered him now felt like sin needing pardon.
- Counsel — Elisha neither approved the bowing nor gave him a rule. He sent him back to grace and to an enlightened conscience.
- Confidence — Elisha left tomorrow's difficulty with God, who gives light for each step. So Naaman went home in peace.
And he said to him, Go in peace. And he departed from him a little way.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And Gehazi, the servant of Elisha the man of God, said, Behold, my master has spared Naaman, this Syrian, in not receiving at his hands that which he brought; but as Jehovah liveth, I will run after him and take somewhat of him.
Gehazi stood closer to this miracle than almost anyone. He watched Elisha refuse a fortune, then decided the refusal was a mistake.
A commentator weighs his advantages against what the testing time revealed:
He was a man of great knowledge and extraordinary privilege. He ought to have been a contented man, for he served the man of God, who could command God's resources in every time of need. But when the testing-time came, it found him out. All he seemed to care about was his own enrichment, and he schemed to turn the goodness of God to his own advantage... He did not rejoice in grace. He would have made Elisha and his God as grasping as himself.
The same pile of silver and clothing acted on master and servant in opposite directions.
Naaman's wealth was ten talents of silver, six thousand pieces of gold and ten changes of clothing. It stirred up the covetousness Gehazi had never judged in his heart. Naaman's need drew out the grace of God in the prophet. Naaman's wealth drew out the covetousness of his servant. The grace of God had brought blessing to Naaman. The covetousness of Gehazi would contradict that grace. A rich man willing and delighted to give a handsome gift was too good an opportunity for a covetous man to let pass.
Notice what oath he swears. Elisha had used those exact words to turn the gift down.
This wretched man calls on the name of the Lord to get riches for himself. He uses the very same words his master had used to refuse them. He lies to take another man's goods.
Another writer links the two sins, and shows why one leads to more:
Bringing God's name into a sin makes it a thousand times worse. Covetousness led to lying, for sins seldom travel alone.
Naaman had just learned that healing could not be bought. Gehazi's run down the road put that lesson at risk.
God's grace and power were on display towards this stranger, but Gehazi's heart was untouched. He only thought how he might use the man for his own selfish ends. He was covetous, so he got what he wanted by deceit and lies. He did not care that his wicked conduct might confuse Naaman's understanding of grace, and so dishonour the God of Israel. His sinful act might make the Syrian think that after all the gift of God could be paid for, if not purchased.
Elisha's sentence on Gehazi did not rest mainly on the lying. It rested on what the moment called for.
He, too, knew, or ought to have known, what the occasion called for; but the honour of the Lord was not before his soul. He eyed and coveted Naaman's silver and clothing, just as Achan in his day coveted the plunder of Jericho. He pushed aside every other consideration to get what he wanted... When the prophet announced the solemn judgments about to fall on him, he did so mainly on one ground: Gehazi had failed to act as the occasion demanded, where God's glory and name were concerned. He did not base them chiefly on his deceit and lies, shocking as these were.
This scene is not only about one man's greed. It warns us too.
Does this solemn scene not warn us? If we allow lust or covetousness to go unjudged in our hearts, we shall be ready to fall into temptation when it crosses our path. Further, one sin leads to another. We cannot stop just when we choose on the path of sin. As one has said, "A man cannot stop his boat at will in the strong currents just above Niagara, though he might have avoided them altogether."
The ending matches the sin with exact justice.
If Gehazi had taken Naaman's wealth, he must also take Naaman's disease. He had got two changes of clothing from Naaman by lying and deceit; he also gets a change of skin by the judgment of God. And the leprosy he gets will cling to him all the days of his life. He will soon spend the wealth he got. The leprosy will remain. No waters of the Jordan will cleanse Gehazi.
- Privilege. Gehazi had the best seat in Israel for watching God work. It changed nothing in him, and the testing time found him out.
- Appetite. One gift, two hearts. The same wealth that drew grace out of Elisha drew covetousness out of his servant.
- Cover. Greed swore by God's own name. Then it needed lie after lie, because sins seldom travel alone.
- Damage. Gehazi's errand threatened to teach Naaman that God's gift has a price after all.
- Wages. He took Naaman's silver and inherited Naaman's disease. The money would run out; the leprosy would stay.
And Gehazi followed after Naaman. And when Naaman saw him running after him, he sprang down from the chariot to meet him, and said, Is all well?
Elisha has just sent Naaman home cured of leprosy, with the words "Go in peace." He refused every gift the Syrian commander pressed on him. Then the prophet's own servant comes running up the road behind the chariot, and the healed man stops to ask whether something is wrong.
Why did he run? Commentators point back to the moment Gehazi saw what Naaman had brought and what Elisha had refused:
Naaman brought ten talents of silver, six thousand pieces of gold and ten changes of clothing. That wealth stirred up the covetousness that Gehazi had never judged in his own heart. Naaman's need drew out the grace of God in the prophet. Naaman's wealth drew out the covetousness of his servant. The grace of God had brought blessing to Naaman. The covetousness of Gehazi would give the lie to that grace. A rich man willing and delighted to give a handsome gift was too good an opportunity for a covetous man to let pass.
Gehazi answers the question with a claim about his master. That claim starts a chain:
To satisfy his greed, Gehazi does not hesitate to act out lies as well as tell them. He runs after Naaman and says, "My master has sent me." This was the first lie. Then he invents the story of the visit of the two young men of Ephraim — a second lie... Having hidden the goods in the house, "he went in and stood before his master" as if nothing had happened. He acts a lie. When Elisha asks where he had been, he tries to cover his earlier lies by telling another one. One lie leads to other lies.
Why would a commander climb down for a servant on foot? One writer sees the healing at work in him:
Greed made him quick on his feet that day. Naaman was still amazed at how the man of God had acted. He saw Gehazi running, and, like the humbled and grateful man he was, he got down from his chariot to meet him... Naaman gave to him freely, and Gehazi became a richer man than his evil heart had hoped. But he spoiled the grace, and clouded what the Syrian had come to see of God that day.
The money is not the worst of it. Naaman had just learned that God's blessing cannot be bought. Gehazi was about to teach him the opposite:
He dares to dishonour the character of God. The prophet stands for God in the eyes of this new believer, who is still inexperienced and overjoyed with his healing... Gehazi's act compromised the servant of the Lord, and it compromised the free grace of God too. Had that been the only thing involved, it might have brought this new believer back to thinking in terms of law and debt, a yoke of slavery. It would have taken from him the free joy of his salvation. Gehazi preferred the pull of riches to the eternal well-being of a soul... Are we thinking hard enough? The worldliness of our walk may do harm to these little ones in the faith that can never be undone.
The same writer notes the outcome. Gehazi told his lie, but it failed to do the harm it aimed at:
The lie might have raised a doubt in Naaman's heart about Elisha's personal selflessness, or about the free character of the gift of God. But God shows that He cares about spiritual babies, and this disastrous result does not follow. Instead, Gehazi's greed and lying bring out Naaman's generosity and his desire to serve the family of God, the sons of the prophets.
Gehazi lived in the prophet's house. That is what made him so useful to Satan:
Naaman had shown the fruits of grace received: a tender conscience and a devoted heart. In the same way, Gehazi's unchanged heart showed itself in all its horrible ugliness. Satan works most easily, and with the greatest effect, on a mind trained in religion. Some people have learned about God, or about the Lord Jesus Christ, and so they know something of the truth. They make more efficient servants of the devil than those who lack such knowledge.
- Grace given. Naaman leaves healed and at peace because Elisha took nothing. The refusal preached the free gift as loudly as the cure did.
- Grace envied. The same man's need drew grace out of Elisha; his money drew greed out of Gehazi.
- Grace faked. "My master has sent me" is the first lie in a chain. One lie leads to others, until Gehazi stands before Elisha acting innocent.
- Grace endangered. The worst harm was not the theft. It was what a new believer might now think: that God's gift has a price after all.
- Grace guarded. God cares for spiritual babies. The lie failed to rob Naaman of his joy; it only drew out his generosity and his wish to serve God's family.
And he said, All is well. My master has sent me saying, Behold, even now there are come to me from mount Ephraim two young men of the sons of the prophets; give them, I pray thee, a talent of silver, and two changes of raiment.
Naaman has just been healed for nothing, and Elisha has refused every gift. Now the prophet's own servant chases him down with an invented errand, two young men who never existed, and a plea made in his master's name.
Gehazi invents every word of this speech. One commentator counts the lies one by one.
To satisfy his greed, Gehazi does not hesitate to act out lies as well as tell them. He runs after Naaman and says, "My master has sent me." That was the first lie. Then he invents the story of the visit of the two young men of Ephraim — a second lie.
He asks for one talent and two sets of clothes. The prophet knew that his heart was after a much longer list.
Then follows the solemn exposure. The prophet knew the whole terrible sin, in all its detail. More than that, he knew the motive that prompted the sin. Hidden in Gehazi's heart was a desire for social position: to own olive groves, vineyards, sheep, oxen, male servants and female servants.
Gehazi put the words in Elisha's mouth. Naaman would now hear the prophet asking for payment after all. The damage went past Naaman's purse to what he would believe about God.
He dares to dishonour the character of God. The prophet represents God in the eyes of this new believer, who is still inexperienced and overjoyed at his healing. It compromised the servant of the Lord, and it compromised the free grace of God as well. If nothing else had been involved, it might have brought this newborn baby back to the legal idea of obligation — a yoke of slavery. It would have robbed him of the free joy of his salvation. Gehazi preferred the attraction of riches to the eternal well-being of a soul.
Another writer traces the harm to what Naaman himself might now conclude.
His sinful act might make the Syrian think that, after all, the gift of God could be paid for, if not purchased.
Gehazi's cover story is a religious one: young prophets in need. Closeness to God's work had not made him safe.
So it is clear that great religious advantages will not, by themselves, protect anyone against serious sin. Who could have had greater advantages than Gehazi? He lived with one of the greatest prophets the world has known. That prophet is described again and again as a man of God. And yet Gehazi fell. "Let anyone who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall."
One writer draws out why familiarity with truth can make a man more useful to the enemy, not less.
Satan works most readily and effectively on the religiously instructed mind. Some have learned about God, or about the Lord Jesus Christ, and so have some knowledge of the truth. They serve the devil better than those without such knowledge.
Gehazi had spent his years serving among people with little to give. Naaman's treasure was the first thing to test what was in him.
Until then he had dealt mainly with the poor, and riches had never stirred his desires. But the sight of this high-ranking man, and of the treasures he offered so freely, became the starting point — or rather the showing up — of what had lain hidden until that day in the depths of his heart.
The desire came first, and the lies followed. That order is the warning for every reader.
Does this solemn scene not warn us? If we allow unjudged desire or covetousness in our hearts, we will be ready to fall into temptation when it crosses our path. Further, one sin leads to another. We cannot stop just when we choose on the path of sin. As someone has said, "A man cannot stop his boat at will in the strong currents just above Niagara, though he might have avoided them altogether."
Gehazi got what he asked for. The price came later.
He had gained two changes of clothing from Naaman by lying and deceit; he also gained a change of skin by the judgment of God. And the leprosy he receives will cling to him all his life. The wealth he has obtained will soon be spent; the leprosy will remain. No waters of the Jordan will cleanse Gehazi.
- Greed first. The wealth Gehazi saw stirred an appetite he had never judged. The lies of this verse only fed it.
- Then invention. Two lies: "My master has sent me," and the two young men of Ephraim. His later conduct acted out the same lie.
- A small ask, a big plan. He names one talent and two garments. His heart wanted vineyards, herds and servants — position, not relief.
- The real victim. The worst damage was not to Naaman's purse but to his view of God, who had just given healing free of charge.
- The wage. Two changes of clothing cost him a change of skin — the money would be spent, the leprosy would stay.
And Naaman said, Consent to take two talents. And he urged him, and bound two talents of silver in two bags, with two changes of raiment, and laid them upon two of his young men; and they bore them before him.
Naaman is heading home, healed, and still carrying every gift Elisha had refused. Then Elisha's servant Gehazi catches up with an invented story, and the gift Naaman gladly gives turns into a crime.
Gehazi's lie reached a man who had only just come to know the God of Israel. It could have done real damage.
Doubt might have risen in Naaman's heart about Elisha's own selflessness, or about the free character of the gift of God. But God shows that He cares for those who are young in faith, and that disaster did not happen. Gehazi's greed and lying, on the contrary, bring out the generosity of Naaman and his desire to serve the family of God, the sons of the prophets.
Getting the silver was not the end of it. The two bags still had to reach Elisha's house unseen.
To satisfy his greed, Gehazi does not hesitate to act lies as well as tell lies. He runs after Naaman and says, "My master has sent me." This was the first lie. Then he invents the story of the visit of the two young men of Ephraim — a second lie. He gets two talents of silver and two changes of clothing. Then he returns with two of Naaman's servants. They help him carry the gift as far as the hill. Going further would bring them in sight of Elisha's house. So he stops at the hill and lets the men go. Having hidden the goods in the house, "he went in and stood before his master" as if nothing had happened. He acts a lie.
Naaman was a foreigner, and Elisha had sent him home with his treasure untouched. That untouched treasure was itself the message.
The Gentile had just been learning the grace of the God of Israel. The king of Syria had sent talents of silver, pieces of gold, and changes of clothing into the land of Israel. The prophet refused them all. Naaman was carrying them home again, down to the last thread or sandal strap. He had gone to the waters without money and without price. He was the witness that God's gift cannot be bought with money.
Elisha's rebuke does not fall first on the theft or the lying. It falls on the moment Gehazi chose.
Gehazi met the prophet's withering rebuke and the swift, solemn judgment of God. It was not only the greed he showed, nor the falsehood and deception he practised, that brought this on him. It was the occasion — "Is it a time to receive," and so on. God had drawn near to His rebellious people in grace. Israel could not keep that grace to itself, and the Gentile could not become its patron or buy it. Elisha was a spiritual man. He entered fully into the mind of God, and refused the gifts Naaman would have pressed on him. Yet his servant thought it a time to enrich himself by grasping at what his master had refused.
The same treasure passed before two men and produced opposite results.
Naaman brought ten talents of silver, six thousand pieces of gold, and ten changes of clothing. That wealth stirred up the covetousness Gehazi had never judged in his own heart. Naaman's need drew out the grace of God in the prophet. Naaman's wealth drew out the covetousness of his servant. The grace of God had brought blessing to Naaman. The covetousness of Gehazi would contradict that grace. A rich man willing and delighted to give a handsome gift was too good an opportunity for a covetous man to let pass.
The judgment that follows matches the exact items Gehazi carried up that hill.
If Gehazi had taken Naaman's wealth, he must also take Naaman's disease. He got two changes of clothing from Naaman by lying and deceit. He also gets a change of skin by the judgment of God. The leprosy he gets will cling to him all the days of his life. He will soon spend the wealth he gained. The leprosy will stay. No waters of Jordan will cleanse Gehazi.
- Free. Naaman went to the water without money. He carried his treasure home untouched. God's gift cannot be bought.
- Grasped. The same wealth drew grace out of the prophet and covetousness out of the servant. To Gehazi, a willing giver was just an opportunity.
- Doubled. Naaman presses two talents on Gehazi. The kindness of the healed man only deepens the guilt of the man deceiving him.
- Hidden. Gehazi told the lie, then acted it. Two bags went only as far as the hill, then into hiding in the house, and Gehazi stood before Elisha as if nothing had happened.
- Kept. He would soon spend the silver, but the leprosy stayed. What he seized for a moment marked him for life.
And when he came to the hill, he took them from their hand, and stowed them in the house; and he let the men go, and they departed.
Gehazi has just run after Naaman and lied to get two talents of silver and two changes of clothing. Now he covers his tracks: he stops short of home, hides the bags indoors, and sends the witnesses away.
Gehazi plans every move here.
To gratify his greed, Gehazi does not hesitate to act lies as well as tell lies. He has just got two talents of silver and two changes of clothing from Naaman. Two of Naaman's servants come back with him to help carry the gift as far as the hill (not "tower", as the Authorised Version has it). To go further would bring him into view of Elisha's house. So he pauses at the hill and lets the men go. He hides the goods in the house, then "he went in and stood before his master" as if nothing had happened. He acts a lie.
Why hide the goods at all?
Gehazi hides all these riches. Hiding them from men is the result of a bad conscience on a crooked path. But will he succeed in hiding this from God?
Distance was no cover.
He had not felt it or realized it. From a distance the prophet's eyes had followed his every movement and read his thoughts. And much more! Elisha's heart had gone with him, "when the man turned from his chariot." What mattered most to the man of God was the danger to the soul of the man who had just left him in peace.
How could he think he would get away with it?
We learn that the pursuit of sin destroys all sense of the presence and power of God. Gehazi must have seen it again and again: the man of God could read men's hearts and discern the motives behind their actions. No one knew better than Gehazi this power of God that was with the prophet. Still, Gehazi is busy satisfying his greedy heart. That heart is so taken up with the ruling passion of greed that, for the time, he loses all sense of the presence of the all-knowing God.
The theft was not the worst of it.
In estimating the sin of Gehazi, the prophet first looks at it in connection with God and His grace. How will his act affect the testimony of God? He sees that Gehazi's sin presents an entirely false view of the grace of God. Elisha had been careful to refuse Naaman's gifts. He did not want this Gentile to think that God's blessings can be bought with gifts. Gehazi's sin would tend to cancel this testimony to the freeness of the grace of God. It was no "time" to receive gifts.
So what did the hiding buy him?
Look at Scripture and you will find that God has usually shamed in this world the very people who promised themselves the most secrecy in their sinning. So Gehazi played his part with cunning. It made him bold enough to come before his master and lie to his face without shame, never dreaming that his master knew about his sin. Yet this man is found out. He got clothing from Naaman by a lie, and the Lord gave him another garment to wear as the uniform of his sin: leprosy. It lasted longer than the two changes of clothes he had from the Syrian. It lasted him all his life. It was not worn out even then. His children after him had to wear it.
What he stored in the house he could not keep. What he did not want came to stay.
The exposure is followed by the judgment. If Gehazi had taken some of Naaman's wealth, he must also take Naaman's disease. By lying and deceit he got two changes of clothing from Naaman. By the judgment of God he also gets a change of skin. And the leprosy that he acquires will cling to him all the days of his life. The wealth he has gained will soon be gone. The leprosy will remain. No waters of Jordan will cleanse Gehazi.
- Hidden — Gehazi stopped at the hill, out of sight of Elisha's house, and sent the carriers away. The hiding was a bad conscience at work.
- Watched — from a distance the prophet's eyes had followed every movement, and his heart had gone with him. Greed had blotted out Gehazi's sense of the all-knowing God.
- Costly — the bags cancelled the testimony Elisha had guarded: God's blessings cannot be bought.
- Exposed — he walked in and lied to his master's face, certain he was safe. He was found out.
- Kept — the silver would soon be gone; the leprosy stayed for life and passed to his children. Grasping Naaman's wealth meant inheriting Naaman's disease.
And he entered in and stood before his master. And Elisha said to him, Whence [comest thou], Gehazi? And he said, Thy servant went no whither.
Gehazi comes back from chasing Naaman's gifts and hides them. Then he walks in and takes his usual place in front of the prophet. Elisha's question is simple. The answer is false.
Before Gehazi speaks a word to Elisha, his posture is already dishonest. One writer traces the whole chain of lies, down to the spot where Gehazi sent Naaman's servants away.
To satisfy his greed, Gehazi does not hesitate to act lies as well as tell them. He runs after Naaman and says, "My master has sent me." That was the first lie. Then he invents the story of the visit of the two young men of Ephraim — a second lie. He gets two talents of silver and two changes of clothing. Then he comes back with two of Naaman's servants to help him carry the gift as far as the hill (not "tower," as in the older translation). To go further would bring him into view of Elisha's house, so he stops at the hill and lets the men go. Having hidden the goods in the house, "He went in and stood before his master" as if nothing had happened. He acts a lie. When Elisha asks where he has been, he tries to cover his earlier lies with another one. One lie leads to other lies.
The denial was not a sudden slip. It was the next stage of something Gehazi had let run.
Does this solemn scene not warn us? If we allow unjudged lust or covetousness in our hearts, we will be ready to fall into temptation when it crosses our path. Further, one sin leads to another. We cannot stop just when we please in the path of sin. As someone has said, "A man cannot stop his boat at will in the strong currents just above Niagara, though he might have avoided them altogether."
Gehazi takes the same position others in this chapter had taken. He had no idea that the prophet's eyes had followed him the whole way.
Gehazi "went in and stood before his master," as Naaman had stood before Elisha (v. 15), and as Elisha himself stood before God (v. 16). What audacity beyond description — if he was the least bit aware that he was known and examined by the Lord. He had not felt or realised it. From a distance, the prophet's eyes had followed his every movement and read his thoughts. And much more! Elisha's heart had gone with him, "when the man turned from his chariot." One thing mattered most to the heart of the man of God: the danger to the soul of the man who had just left him in peace.
One writer sets Gehazi's calm denial beside the kiss of Judas.
Brazenly he went in to Elisha's presence. When Elisha asked where he had gone, he coolly lied that he had gone nowhere (v. 25). Just as Judas thought he could deceive the Lord Jesus when he kissed Him, so Gehazi thought he could deceive the prophet of God. Judas had watched the Lord discern the thoughts of other people. But he had no faith to apply such facts to his own conduct. So with Gehazi. He knew Elisha was a true prophet of God, yet thought he could get away with deceiving him. Such is the folly of unbelief.
One writer says the lie was not the worst of it.
So it was a terrible thing to have all this testimony confused. Well might the prophet ask, was this a time to take the Syrian's money? Could anything be more grievous to the Spirit? The lie, it is true, was detestable — the lie first to Naaman, and then to Elisha himself — it was all detestable. But what shall we say of this sad counter-testimony? It clouded the brightness of the grace of God. It gave an opening to those who might be looking for one.
One writer shows how the punishment matched the payment.
In this world God has usually shamed those who promised themselves the most secrecy in their sinning. Gehazi played his part cunningly enough. That made him bold enough to come before his master and lie to his face. He never dreamed that his master knew of his sin. Yet God found this man out. He got clothes from Naaman by a lie, so the Lord gave him another garment to wear as the uniform of his sin: leprosy. It lasted longer than the two changes of clothes he had from the Syrian. It lasted him all his life. It was not even worn out then, for his children after him had to put it on.
- Greed starts it. Covetousness left unjudged makes a man ready to fall when temptation crosses his path. Gehazi entered a current he could not stop in.
- Lying continues it. He acted a lie by taking his usual place, then told one to cover the two he had already told. One lie leads to other lies.
- Nearness does not shield it. He knew Elisha was a true prophet of God, yet thought he could deceive him — the folly of unbelief.
- Grace suffers by it. The lie was detestable. The worse harm was clouding the brightness of God's grace.
- God exposes it. God shames those who count most on secrecy. Gehazi lied to get clothes, and God gave him a garment of leprosy that outlasted them.
And he said to him, Did not my heart go, when the man turned again from his chariot to meet thee? Is it a time to receive money, and to receive garments, and oliveyards, and vineyards, and sheep, and oxen, and bondmen, and bondwomen?
Elisha's servant has just come back from a secret errand with silver and clothing, taken from Naaman, the Syrian commander God had healed. No one told the prophet — yet he describes the moment on the road, and turns it all into one question about timing.
The prophet had no report to go on. His heart had gone with Gehazi on the road — watching him, and caring for the man he had just sent away in peace.
Gehazi "entered in and stood before his master," as Naaman had stood before Elisha (v. 15), as Elisha himself stood before God (v. 16). What astonishing boldness — if he had any sense that the Lord knew him and searched him. He had not felt or realised it. From a distance the prophet's eyes had followed his every movement and seen his thoughts. And much more! Elisha's heart had gone with him, "when the man turned from his chariot." One thing mattered most to the man of God: the danger to the soul of the man who had just left him in peace. If his heart went with Gehazi, we may conclude he had begged the Lord to keep this newborn believer in the faith. The Lord answered his prayers.
Gehazi did not only steal. He believed he could stand in front of Elisha and not be found out.
Just as Judas thought he could deceive the Lord Jesus when he kissed Him, so Gehazi thought he could deceive the prophet of God… He knew Elisha was a true prophet of God, yet thought he could get away with deceiving him. Such is the folly of unbelief… And what could Gehazi do with his ill-gotten gains now? Elisha had exposed his sin, and told him he knew that Naaman had turned back from his chariot to meet him.
The rebuke names things Gehazi never received — land, flocks, servants. The list reaches past the theft to the plan behind it.
Then follows the solemn exposure. The prophet knew the whole terrible sin, in all its detail. But more than that, he knew the motive behind the sin. Hidden in Gehazi's heart was the desire to gain social position — to own olive groves, vineyards, sheep, oxen, male servants and female servants.
Elisha's question turns on the hour. And the hour was a nation sliding toward ruin.
Yes — was it the time to acquire something for oneself? Israel lay in ruin, and the final judgment already hung over the people. The nation stood on the eve of destruction. Was that the character a servant of the Lord ought to be showing? A solemn question, which speaks to our consciences too.
Elisha had refused Naaman's gift so that a Gentile would not go home thinking God's blessing has a price. His servant collected what his master had turned down.
With Gehazi, it was not only the greed that came to light. Nor was it the falsehood and deception he practised. What brought on him the prophet's withering rebuke, and the swift and solemn judgment of God, was the occasion — "Was it a time to accept money and garments," etc. God had drawn near to His rebellious people in grace. Israel could not keep that grace as private property, and the Gentile could not sponsor or buy it. Elisha was a spiritual man. He entered fully into the mind of God, and refused the gifts Naaman would have pressed on him. Yet his servant thought it a time to enrich himself by grasping at what his master had refused.
Gehazi's deceit and lies were shocking. Yet the prophet's sentence rests on heavier ground still.
But nothing is hidden from God; everything is naked and exposed in His eyes, and Gehazi soon found it so. The hidden things are made clear. The prophet of God then announces the solemn judgments about to fall on him. He does it above all because Gehazi failed to act as the occasion demanded, in a matter touching God's glory and name — not chiefly because of his deceit and lies, shocking as these were.
Gehazi lived beside a great prophet. It did not keep him.
Clearly, great religious advantages will not, by themselves, protect anyone from serious sin. Who could have had greater advantages than Gehazi? … and yet Gehazi fell. "Let anyone who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall."
- Heart — Elisha's heart went with Gehazi on the road. He watched every move, and cared most about the danger to Naaman's new faith.
- Hidden — The rebuke exposes the motive, not just the act: a quiet ambition for land, livestock and servants.
- Time — The question is about the moment. With Israel near its end, it was no time for a servant of God to be acquiring things for himself.
- Free — Elisha refused Naaman's gift so that grace would look free. Gehazi's grab risked teaching a Gentile that God's blessing can be bought.
- Take heed — Living close to a man of God did not protect Gehazi. Thinking he could deceive the prophet was the folly of unbelief.
But the leprosy of Naaman shall fasten upon thee, and upon thy seed for ever. And he went out from his presence leprous, as snow.
Naaman goes home clean, and in the same hour Elisha's own servant walks out white with Naaman's disease. A story of free grace ends in judgment — why did the man nearest the prophet end up furthest from blessing?
Gehazi took Naaman's wealth. He also took something he had not bargained for.
If Gehazi had taken Naaman's wealth, he must also take Naaman's disease. He had acquired two changes of clothing from Naaman by lying and deceit; he also gets a change of skin by the judgment of God. And the leprosy that he acquires will cling to him all the days of his life. He will soon spend the wealth he obtained. The leprosy will remain. No waters of Jordan will cleanse Gehazi.
Gehazi's lie was not only theft. It touched what Naaman would believe about God's gift.
He was covetous. By deceit and falsehood he got what he wanted. He gave no thought to how his wicked conduct might confuse Naaman's understanding of grace, and so dishonour the God of Israel. His sinful act might make the Syrian think that the gift of God could be paid for after all, if not bought. That is why the punishment that fell on him was so severe.
Everyone can see that Gehazi lied. The prophet charged him with something else.
The prophet (v. 26) does not challenge him on the ground of his having lied to Naaman, but on quite another form of evil that was in his conduct. "Was it a time," says Elisha to his servant, "to accept money and garments, olive orchards and vineyards, sheep and oxen, male servants and female servants?"
Elisha's servant thought his errand was invisible. It was not — he had a witness with him the whole way.
However fast you sin, your conscience can write it all down after you… So Gehazi played his part with enough cunning. He was bold enough to come before his master and lie to his face, never dreaming that his master knew of his sin. Yet this man is found out. For the garments he got from Naaman by a lie, the Lord gave him another, which he was to wear as a uniform for his sin, for he wore leprosy as his clothing. It was a garment more lasting than the two changes of suits he had from the Syrian, for it lasted him all his life. It was not worn out then either: his children after him were to put it on.
The verse does not just say Gehazi became a leper. It names whose leprosy it is.
It is Naaman's leprosy! The impurity of the flesh which had marked that idolatrous man, a stranger to God, is the same impurity which the Lord placed upon the prophet's unfaithful servant. There is no difference between them. The horror of sin is not lessened by belonging to the people of Israel, or by holding a place of nearness and special relationship with the Lord while being morally far from Him. Instead of blessing him, God marks him, so to speak, with His abhorrence, and all his descendants are defiled by it.
The chapter ends with the outsider healed and the insider struck. Another writer finds the same pattern in Acts, where a married couple, Ananias and Sapphira, lied about their gift and died.
A Gentile enemy of Israel was healed and clearly brought in true faith to God, while a Jewish servant of the prophet suffered the solemn judgment of God… In the New Testament, Ananias and Sapphira were struck dead at once for greed and falsehood (Acts 5:1-10), at a time when the apostles were beautifully proclaiming the grace of God in Christ Jesus. In the same way, Elisha pronounced judgment on Gehazi at a time when grace had been so beautifully shown to Naaman.
- Coveted — Gehazi wanted Naaman's money and clothes, and deceit and falsehood got them for him.
- Lied — he lied to Naaman to get the gift, then lied to his master's face.
- Exposed — his master saw the whole errand; secret sin has a witness that writes everything down.
- Exchanged — he took two changes of clothing and got a change of skin. He would soon spend the money; the leprosy would stay.
- Inherited — the leprosy passed to his children. Nearness to a prophet does not lessen the horror of sin, and a price tag on God's gift dishonours the God who gives it free.