2 Kings 5:1-14; Galatians 6:1-10
Rev. Kenneth M. Locke, Interim Pastor
Orchard Park Presbyterian Church; Carmel, IN
July 6, 2025; Fourth Sunday After Pentecost
Naaman the Aramaean, Naaman the leper. What a great story. I remember being enthralled by it as a boy. As an adult I read it differently, but I’m still enthralled by it.
Naaman is Commander in Chief of the Aramaan army. Basically, modern Syria. He is an extremely important person. By God’s help, he has won great battles for the king of Aram. Sadly, Naaman has a very bad skin disease. Obviously, he wants to be healed.
Naaman goes to his king. “Your Majesty, I have heard there’s a prophet in Samaria who can cure me. May I go see him?” “Of course, yes, go. I’ll send a letter and some gifts.” Naaman heads off with his letter of introduction and a king’s ransom in gifts. The numbers and the items are a little odd to us but these gifts amount to a fantastic amount of money. Staggering.
When the king of Israel receives the letter, he’s beside himself. There’s no mention of a prophet, just a direct order from the king of Araam. “Here is my servant Naaman. Heal him. (Or else.)” The text doesn’t say, “or else,” but you know that’s the implication.
“What? Do I look like God? I can’t heal anyone. The king of Araam is trying to pick a fight with me. What will I do?” Elisha sends word, “Don’t worry. Send him to me.”
Naaman goes to Elisha’s house, but Elisha won’t see him. Won’t even glance out of the window. Instead, he tells his servant, “Go tell Naaman to wash seven times in the Jordan.”
Naaman is furious. He is apoplectic with rage. Naaman is proud. He is a very important person. He doesn’t take directions from some lowly servant. That prophet needs to drag himself out here and show some respect. Beyond furious, Naaman stomps off, muttering under his breath.
Fortunately, his staff calm him down. He agrees, but just barely. He goes to the Jordan river, but he doesn’t wash. He doesn’t scrub himself. Instead, he dips himself into the water. The Hebrew verb is actually the verb to sink, to sink down into. The point is he’s not actively doing anything. (Can we say, ‘Passive aggressive, much!’?) He allows himself to sink down into the water. He does it again. And again. He lets himself sink down into the water seven times and when he comes up the seventh time, his skin is healed. Smooth as a baby’s bottom.
Wow. The power of God. God isn’t limited to healing the willing. God can do great things even with the proud, the stubborn, the haughty, the arrogant. From the most humble to the most haughty and all of us in between, God can do great things. It’s a good story, and a good lesson. No one is beyond the power of God.
Now let’s see. We’ve talked about Naaman. We’ve talked about the King of Aram and the King of Israel. We’ve talked about Elisha and his servant. Is there anyone else? Ah yes, the young girl.
How old is she? We don’t know. The Hebrew uses a diminutive, so my best guess is she’s not a teenager. She’s a child. OK, but why does she matter? Why talk about her at all.
Think about it. Think about who she is and what she’s done. We know she’s been captured by a raiding party. She’s been kidnapped and almost certainly sold to Naaman and his wife. We don’t know how she’s being treated. Maybe well, maybe badly. We don’t know. What we do know is she’s not there by her own choice. At the very least she is a child who has been enslaved by force.
But still, she’s the one who starts the story. “If only my master would see the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy.” This young girl is the prime mover. She’s the one who gets the story going. She’s the one who starts the action. This young girl, who probably has no good reason for wanting to help her master. And yet, she does.
In our New Testament lesson, Paul tells us to do good to all. Carry each other’s burdens. Especially believers, but really everyone. Here, I believe Paul has overreached. Read the gospels and you would have a hard time making the case Jesus wants us to serve Christians first, and then everyone else. But that’s an issue for another day.
Right now, what we know is this young girl, this nameless young girl, this powerless young girl, has born Naaman’s burden. She has born Naaman’s burden, and it has changed his life.
This past week, a woman came to see us. Thirty-something? Her leg was in a cast. A friend had driven her. She works as a server here in Carmel. Her rent was due. She hadn’t been paid. She was in a bad way. Hard to carry a tray of food when you’re on crutches and in a cast.
We couldn’t write her a check right then and there. We have some safeguards we have to follow. But we did what we could. I hope it helped.
The real issue, of course, was her leg. She was going to the Doctor on Monday for more tests and x-rays. She said, “I’m on Medicaid. Medicaid will cover it.”
If you’ve been paying attention to the news, you know our government has just taken a carving knife to Medicaid. The cuts don’t start immediately, but in the future what’s going to happen to people like this woman?
Our country is moving away from carrying each other’s burdens. We’re in an age of ‘every man for himself and devil take the hindmost.’ This is where we as Christians can make a difference. We can set an example. We can be the young girl who spoke to Naaman’s wife. We, as individuals and as a church, can be the prime movers and shakers changing the story for the woman who came to see us and so many others.
Carrying each other’s burdens is what we do. As a church and as individuals, we carry each other’s burdens. Both the pleasant and the surly. Those who are thankful and those who are arrogant. Carrying each other’s burdens is what we do because it’s what God wants us to do.
Jesus carried our burdens to the cross. Now it’s our turn. By the power of the Holy Spirit, may we, as individuals and as a church, carry the burdens of others. May we be like Jesus. May we be like that nameless young girl who spoke up and changed Naaman’s life. Amen.
