Maybe give it a try?

2 Kings 5:1-14

Naaman, commander of the army of the king of Aram, was a great man and in high favor with his master because by him the Lord had given victory to Aram. The man, though a mighty warrior, suffered from a skin disease. 2 Now the Arameans on one of their raids had taken a young girl captive from the land of Israel, and she served Naaman’s wife. 3 She said to her mistress, “If only my lord were with the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his skin disease.” 4 So Naaman went in and told his lord just what the girl from the land of Israel had said. 5 And the king of Aram said, “Go, then, and I will send along a letter to the king of Israel.”  

      He went, taking with him ten talents of silver, six thousand shekels of gold, and ten sets of garments. 6 He brought the letter to the king of Israel, which read, “When this letter reaches you, know that I have sent to you my servant Naaman, that you may cure him of his skin disease.” 7 When the king of Israel read the letter, he tore his clothes and said, “Am I God, to give death or life, that this man sends word to me to cure a man of his skin disease? Just look and see how he is trying to pick a quarrel with me.”

      8 But when Elisha the man of God heard that the king of Israel had torn his clothes, he sent a message to the king, “Why have you torn your clothes? Let him come to me, that he may learn that there is a prophet in Israel.” 9 So Naaman came with his horses and chariots and halted at the entrance of Elisha’s house. 10 Elisha sent a messenger to him, saying, “Go, wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored, and you shall be clean.” 11 But Naaman became angry and went away, saying, “I thought that for me he would surely come out and stand and call on the name of the Lord his God and would wave his hand over the spot and cure the skin disease! 12 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?” He turned and went away in a rage. 13 But his servants approached and said to him, “Father, if the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it? How much more, when all he said to you was, ‘Wash, and be clean’?” 14 So he went down and immersed himself seven times in the Jordan, according to the word of the man of God; his flesh was restored like the flesh of a young boy, and he was clean.

Naaman was the commander of the army of the Arameans, a man who enjoyed the favor his master, the king, and also who, despite being a foreigner, also apparently found the favor of the God of Israel in battle.  (One moral of the story is that the God of Israel is not just the god if Israel).  But despite being a mighty warrior he also suffered from leprosy.  In a time when a person to was understood to be either blessed or cursed, Naaman was an ambiguous character.  

On one of their raids the Arameans had taken captive a young Israelite girl who ended up serving Naaman’s wife.  This girl, seeing Naaman’s condition, shares about a prophet in Israel whom she’s certain could heal him.  It’s probably a sign of Naaman’s desperation that, rather than ignoring her thought, he went to the king who facilitated a meeting with the king of Israel.  

When the king of Israel read the letter stating that Naaman had come in order to receive healing, he thought he was being set up, that the king of Aram was demanding something that he could not deliver in order to pick a fight.  To the king of Israel this was a preposterous request, and he tore his clothes in his consternation.  

When the prophet Elisha heard about all this he told the king to send Naaman to him.  So Naaman went to see Elisha, but before he even arrived, Elisha sent ahead a message: “Go, wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored, and you shall be clean.” Naaman was not impressed.  He assumed that the prophet would’ve at least come out to meet a great man like himself, and that he would’ve then performed some spectacular miracle.  Instead Elisha forwarded some simple instructions, which Naaman found insulting.  If all that was required was to wash in the water, there were much better rivers at home.  So Naaman, “turned and went away in a rage”.  

Some of Naaman’s servants urged him to take a different perspective.  “If the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it? How much more, when all he said to you was, ‘Wash, and be clean’?”  They may not have been convinced by Elisha’s interactions either, but having come all that way, surely it was at least worth a shot.  And sure enough, when Naaman immersed himself in the River Jordan those seven times his skin was restored, and he was clean.   

One moral of this story is obvious: Our pride easily prevents us being made whole.  Naaman wanted to be treated like the great man he thought himself to be, for the prophet to come out with great pomp and circumstance, and wave away the leprosy.  He wanted to be special.  And when this didn’t happen, he became enraged.  Naaman clearly felt as if the prophet’s manner and instructions were beneath him, that something so meager could produce results.  He was ready to  make the journey back to Aram without even seeing if just maybe this might work.  

Naaman was an important man for whom leprosy must’ve been a constant frustration - not just because he had a irritating skin condition but because it made him unclean.  He was great, but he also wasn’t.  And it’s probably the case that the anxiety he felt about his leprosy, his own self doubt, the way he imagined others regarded him, only amplified his pride, that rather than accepting his humble state he over-compensated.  

That’s all pseudo-psychological speculation, but it’s still true that it’s in our nature to hold onto our pride even at times when it very much works against our true interests.  Naaman only needed to humble himself in order to receive healing, but it all felt too humiliating.  He thought he had more to lose than to gain, when the exact opposite was true.  

So we ought to ask ourselves, Are we like Naaman?  Might we be clinging pride that prevents our healing?  May the life-giving course of action be right in front us but we think it’s beneath us?  Might we fear that humility lead to humiliation rather to restoration?   Would we rather turn and walk away instead of seeing if just maybe this might work?  

But lets get a bit more specific about the moral of the story for us.  To give Naaman a bit of credit, he did at least perceive that he could not solve his problem, he could not heal himself.  He was searching for answers, for something, anything, that could make him whole.  It seems safe to say that those of us who come to church, who to some degree or another are engaging with the faith, are more or less in the same position.  We’re here because we have questions we can’t answer, needs we cannot meet.  We perceive, at some level, some lack that requires looking outside ourselves.  This is all well and good.  The problem for us is the same as it was for Naaman, that we have an unhelpful preconceived notion of what those answers ought to look like, of what course of action will bring us life.   

If you go to bookstores these days looking for the Christian books, if they have them at all, they’re likely to be in self-help section.  The assumption is that those who try spirituality are more or less like those who might try yoga, or a diet, or the power of positive thinking.  And indeed most of the Christian books - at least those that get carried in mainstream bookstores - tend to fall into the category of helping you get what you want - how to feel happier, more at peace, how to get your prayers answered, and so on.  That these kind of books get published is mostly downstream from how Christians tend to think about God.  We have learned to think of God as someone who can help us get what we want, a resource for improving our lives on our own terms.  

So we come to God seeking answers for the important questions: What should my vocation be?  Would I take this job or that job?  Should I date this person or not?  We want to know God’s will for our lives, and we’re hoping that if we ask enough or in the right way, that God will reveal the answer to us, that God will give us some instructions about what we’re supposed to do.  

The thing is, God has already given us plenty of instructions about how to live a life that is good and true, about how to find joy and peace, about how to find ourselves at the center of God’s will.   Much of the evidence suggests, however, that we don’t really like these answers.  We might read, for instance, the Sermon on the Mount - all the stuff about loving your neighbor, turning the cheek, praying for your enemies, giving to the poor - and conclude that this is not a path that is going to address our felt needs.  No, it takes us in a direction we don’t want to go; we want the healing without having first to be humble.  Instead we want God to announce specific, special instructions for us to follow.   Anybody can go wash in the Jordan; give me something else.  

Which leads to a simple but challenging point: if we really want our questions answered, our deepest needs met, if we really want to live an abundant life, then rather than waiting for customized instructions from God we might first what to attempt the instructions he’s already given us.  When we encounter the words and actions of Jesus we rarely think to ourselves, “I really want to try that!”  Instead we presume that following him will lead somewhere else than where we want to end up.   So if we find ourselves disappointed with the faith, convinced that its not delivering the results we desire - or any results at all - we might ask ourselves if perhaps the problem is that we haven’t actually tried the faith at all.