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.