My Name is Naaman

My name is Naaman.

©Lars Justinen and GoodSalt, Inc.

I was the commander of the Aramean army. I was a great warrior, and I won many victories for my king. I didn’t know it then, but it was because the God of the Hebrews had shown me favor on the battlefield.

But neither my bravery nor my skill could keep me from being defeated by leprosy.

My wife had a servant girl, a young captive from Israel. She said there was a prophet there, Elisha, who could heal me. I told my king, and he sent me to Israel with a letter to their king and many gifts. King Joram of Israel was afraid we were trying to trick him and tried to send me away, but Elisha sent word that I should come to him.

Before I reached Elisha’s home, a servant met me on the road and instructed me to bathe in the Jordan River seven times. He promised this action would make me clean. 

I had never been so insulted! Who did the man think he was? He couldn’t even bother to speak to me himself but sent a servant with a message. He offered no prayers, no incantations, nothing. And the Jordan? I could bathe in a river in my own country. I had no choice but to leave.

One of my servants, though, was wiser than I. He said, ”If the prophet had told you to do some great and difficult thing, would you not do it?”

He had a point. What had I to lose?

I went to the river. I dipped below the water six times. Nothing.

When I came up from the water after the seventh time, my flesh was that of a young boy! Pure, clean, and smooth.

Delirious with joy, I returned to Elisha and offered him a fortune in gold. The man of God refused. He said the miracles of the God of Israel were not for sale.

There could be only one response from me. I told the prophet, “Now I know that there is no God in all the world except in Israel.”