Written by Abby Baumgartner, volunteer for Iron Rose Sister Ministries in Baton Rouge, Louisiana
Lifting my head out of the water, I breathe and open my eyes just in time to hear the questioning cries from the shoreline: “Master Naaman! Are you healed?”
I look down at my arm and see that, for the sixth time now, I’ve gotten my hopes up; the pale, pink spots of leprosy still cover my arm. I turn towards shore, shaking my head as choruses of “That’s ok,” “That was only six. You’re supposed to dip seven times,” and “Seventh time is the charm!” drift back to me from the shore.
But this is ridiculous.
How did I—the commanding general of the Syrian army—end up washing myself in the Jordan river with an audience on the shoreline? Good question.
It all started when I discovered spots of leprosy on my arm. With no cure, this disease decays the skin and is a horrifying death sentence. I immediately began searching for some way to be healed, and no idea was too crazy to try. My wife’s servant, an Israelite girl my army captured in a raid, spoke of a prophet in Israel who could heal leprosy. I decided to seek healing from this prophet, after all, what did I stand to lose?
Armed with a letter of recommendation from the King of Syria and gifts of silver, gold, and fine clothing, I went to Israel and met with the king. I read him the letter and offered the gifts, but instead of answering me, the king declared he could not help me. We were at a standstill, and I started to think I’d wasted my time, until a messenger came before the king saying, “I carry with me a message from Elisha the prophet “Let him come now to me that he may know that there is a prophet in Israel” (2 Kings 5:8, ESV).
So, I packed up again and traveled to meet Elisha, but when I arrived at the prophet’s house, he wouldn’t even come to meet me. Instead, he sent another messenger to say, “Go and wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored, and you shall be clean” (2 Kings 5:10b).
Humiliated and with burning rage, I said, “Behold, I thought he would surely come out to me and stand and call upon the name of the Lord, his God, and wave his hand over the place and cure the leper. Are not Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Demascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them and be clean?” (2 Kings 5:11b-12a).
Having said my piece, I turned to go, but one of my servants said, “Do not be angry, but,
My father, if the prophet had told you to do some great thing, would you not have done it? How much more, then, when he tells you, ‘Wash and be cleansed’!” (2 Kings 5:13b, NIV).
I turned and looked back at my servants and the messenger. That same servant spoke again saying, “He’s not asking you do accomplish some super-human feat; he’s just asking you to wash.”
“But it makes no sense!” I replied, “Why—”
“Why not! We’ve all heard of the power of the Israelite God and the miracles worked by His prophets—this may still be your best chance,” he said. “And even if it doesn’t work, the only negative is that you’ll get a little wet.”
So, now I stand here in the Jordan River. I’ve dipped six times with no change in my skin, and I feel like a fool. Just one more time, I tell myself. As I sink into the Jordan a seventh time, a momentary wave of peace washes over me, then all too quickly, I rise from the water again. Before I even open my eyes, I hear calls from the shore, “Master Naaman! Are you healed?”
Fearing the worst, I look down at my arms. My skin is clear again! I jump back to the shore shouting, “The leprosy is gone! It’s all gone! Praise the Lord, God of Israel!”
I run to Elisha’s house, and this time he comes to meet me. With a knowing grin, he asks, “Naaman, have you washed in the Jordan seven times?”
“Yes!” I reply, “Behold, I know that there is no God in all the earth but in Israel; so accept now a present from your servant” and I offer him the gifts of gold, silver, and clothes (2 Kings 5:15b, ESV).
Elisha says, “No. As the Lord lives, before whom I stand, I will receive none” (2 Kings 5:16).
Now I understand. My healing wasn’t something I could manhandle through feats of strength or buy with gold; in fact, I could not earn my healing at all. Nothing I could do would measure up. Washing in the Jordan was so simple, and yet it brought a healing that I couldn’t gain in any other way.
It was ridiculous. It made no sense to me, but maybe that’s part of the point, too. I have to trust that the Lord is greater and stronger than I am, and I have to obey His call, even if it doesn’t make a lot of sense in the moment. Healing only came when I surrendered, let go of my pride, and obeyed.
“Thank you, Elisha. I understand now that I cannot repay you, so I will instead ask one more thing. [P]lease let there be given to your servant two mule loads of earth,” I say (2 Kings 5:17). “Because from now on, I will only worship and offer sacrifices to the Lord, God of Israel. And I ask that even when I have to enter the temples of false gods with my king, that the Lord will forgive me.”
“Go in peace,” Elisha tells me, and I do (2 Kings 5:19).
What seemingly ridiculous thing is God calling you to obey?