Commentary - 2 Kings 5:1-14

Bird's-eye view

The story of Naaman is a masterful narrative that operates on multiple levels. On the surface, it is a straightforward account of a miraculous healing. A powerful Aramean general, afflicted with leprosy, is cleansed through the word of Elisha, the prophet of Yahweh. But underneath this, it is a profound theological lesson on the nature of pride, humility, and salvation. The story contrasts the pomp and power of the world with the simple, humbling demands of God. Naaman, a man of great worldly stature, must be brought low before he can be raised up. He must abandon his own ideas of how salvation should work and submit to the foolish, unimpressive means that God has appointed. This account is a living parable of the gospel, demonstrating that God's grace is not for sale, cannot be earned through heroic deeds, and is received only through humble obedience to His word.

Furthermore, the narrative serves to exalt the God of Israel over all rivals. The king of Aram and the king of Israel are both shown to be powerless. The rivers of Damascus, though beautiful, have no power to cleanse. True power to save and make alive rests with Yahweh alone, and He demonstrates this power through His chosen prophet, Elisha. The story is a declaration that the God of this small, beleaguered nation of Israel is in fact the sovereign Lord of all nations, offering cleansing and new life to any who will come to Him on His terms.

Outline

Context In 2 Kings

This chapter is situated within a collection of stories detailing the ministry of the prophet Elisha, the successor to Elijah. Elisha's ministry is characterized by miracles that demonstrate the power and mercy of Yahweh, not only to Israel but also to Gentiles, as we see here with Naaman the Aramean. The relationship between Israel and Aram (Syria) during this period was often hostile, marked by frequent border skirmishes and wars. The fact that Yahweh heals a commander of an enemy army is a striking demonstration of His sovereign grace, which is not limited by national or ethnic boundaries. This event serves as a powerful testimony to the Arameans, and a rebuke to the faithless king of Israel, that the true God is present and active through His prophet.

Key Issues

Verse 1

Now Naaman, commander of the army of the king of Aram, was a great man with his master, and highly respected, because by him Yahweh had given salvation to Aram. The man was also a mighty man of valor, but he was a leper.

The account begins by building Naaman up. He is a great man, a respected commander, a man of valor. He has everything the world esteems. But the text immediately establishes two crucial facts that undermine all of this. First, his success was not his own; it was Yahweh who gave him victory. The God of Israel is not a tribal deity; He is the sovereign ruler of all nations, raising up and putting down whomever He pleases, even pagan generals. Second, for all his greatness, there is a fatal flaw, a great "but." He was a leper. Leprosy in Scripture is the quintessential picture of sin. It is a defiling disease that isolates and corrupts, working its way out from the inside. No amount of worldly honor, wealth, or power could solve this problem. Naaman was a walking dead man, and his condition was a picture of every man's condition apart from God's grace.

Verses 2-3

Now the Arameans had gone out in marauding bands and had taken captive a little girl from the land of Israel; and she waited on Naaman’s wife. And she said to her mistress, “I wish that my master were before the prophet who is in Samaria! Then he would cure him of his leprosy.”

Here we see the wonderful and mysterious providence of God. A violent raid, an act of injustice, results in a little Israelite girl becoming a slave in Naaman's house. And it is from this lowly, powerless position that the first word of hope comes. She is not named, but her faith is robust. She knows that while the kings and armies are powerless against this disease, there is a man in Samaria who speaks for the living God. Her witness is simple, direct, and full of genuine compassion. She wishes for her master's good. This is the nature of true evangelism. It is not a power play, but a simple testimony pointing to the one who has the power to heal and save.

Verses 4-7

Then Naaman went in and told his master... Then the king of Aram said, “Go now, and I will send a letter to the king of Israel.”... And he brought the letter to the king of Israel... when the king of Israel read the letter, he tore his clothes and said, “Am I God, to put to death and to make alive, that this man is sending word to me to cure a man of his leprosy?”

Naaman hears the word of hope, but he and his king immediately process it through a worldly, political grid. They cannot imagine a solution that does not involve power brokers and vast sums of money. So they concoct a plan: a king will write to a king. The letter is essentially a royal demand. The king of Israel's reaction is telling. He rightly understands that healing leprosy is a divine prerogative, something only God can do. But his conclusion is one of panicked despair. He sees it as a political provocation, a pretext for war. It never occurs to him, the king of God's covenant people, to consult God's prophet. He is spiritually bankrupt. The world's highest authorities are utterly helpless before the problem of sin and death.

Verses 8-10

Now it happened when Elisha the man of God heard that the king of Israel had torn his clothes, that he sent word to the king, saying, “Why have you torn your clothes? Now let him come to me, and he shall know that there is a prophet in Israel.” So Naaman came with his horses and his chariots and stood at the doorway of the house of Elisha. And Elisha sent a messenger to him, saying, “Go and wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh will be restored to you and you will be clean.”

Elisha cuts through all the royal hand-wringing. The king's panic is an embarrassment, and Elisha's message is a rebuke. The issue is not politics; the issue is whether God is real and present with His people. "Let him come to me." Naaman arrives with his whole entourage, a display of worldly power and importance, expecting a reception to match. He parks his chariots at the door of a humble prophet's house. The contrast is stark. And then comes the first great offense. Elisha does not even grant him an audience. He sends a messenger. The second offense is the command itself. It is simple, undignified, and frankly, a bit ridiculous. Go wash in the muddy Jordan River. Not a magical incantation, not a grand ceremony, just a humbling act of obedience.

Verses 11-12

But Naaman was furious and went away and said, “Behold, I said to myself, ‘He will surely come out to me and stand and call on the name of Yahweh his God, and wave his hand over the place and cure the leper.’ Are not Abanah 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 wrath.

Here is the root of the problem: pride. Naaman's rage boils over because God refuses to follow Naaman's script. "Behold, I said to myself..." He had a preconceived notion of how his salvation should be accomplished. He expected a performance, a spectacle worthy of his station. He wanted the prophet to come out, perform a ritual, and make a fuss over him. When he is told simply to wash, his pride is wounded. He then compares God's appointed means, the Jordan, with his own preferred alternatives, the beautiful rivers of Damascus. We all do this. We all have our Abanahs and Pharpars, the respectable, logical, and self-affirming ways we think God ought to save us. The gospel, with its scandalous demand for simple faith in a crucified Savior, is an offense to this kind of pride.

Verses 13-14

Then his servants approached and spoke to him and said, “My father, had the prophet spoken with you to do some great thing, would you not have done it? How much more then, when he says to you, ‘Wash, and be clean’?” So he went down and dipped himself seven times in the Jordan, according to the word of the man of God; and his flesh was restored like the flesh of a young boy and he was clean.

Once again, wisdom comes from the mouths of the lowly. His servants, with respectful and clear-headed logic, expose the foolishness of his pride. If the prophet had demanded some heroic, difficult task, Naaman's pride would have eagerly accepted the challenge. The offense was not in the difficulty of the command, but in its simplicity. It required no valor, no greatness, only obedience. Humbled by their counsel, Naaman relents. He "went down," which is the posture of humility, into the muddy water. He obeyed the prophet's word precisely, dipping seven times, the number of divine completion. The result was not just a cure, but a complete renewal. His flesh became like that of a child. This is a beautiful picture of regeneration. When a sinner, stripped of his pride, humbles himself to obey the simple command of the gospel, he is not just forgiven; he is made new.

Application

Every one of us is Naaman. We may be great in the eyes of the world, respected in our fields, and mighty in our own strength, but we are all lepers. We are all defiled by a sin that no amount of money, power, or self-effort can cleanse. We come to God with our own ideas, our own Abanahs and Pharpars, expecting Him to be impressed with our resume. We want a salvation that makes sense to us, one that allows us to retain some measure of dignity and control.

But God's way is the way of the Jordan. It is the way of the cross. It is foolishness to the world. He tells us to do something simple: repent and be baptized. Trust not in your own great deeds, but wash in the blood of the Lamb. The command is offensive because it is so simple. It requires us to abandon our pride, admit our helplessness, and simply obey the word of the man of God. But for those who are willing to "go down" in humility, the result is not just cleansing, but total transformation. We are not just patched up; we are made new creatures, with flesh like that of a young boy, clean in the sight of God.