2 Kings 5:1-14

You have something they want. You’re holding something they need. You own something that the world considers more precious than gold or platinum. You were given this precious thing, free of charge. And even though everyone agrees that this is the most precious commodity in the world, there actually is a plentiful supply. Usually, something has to be rare in order to be precious, but not in this case. What you own could be owned by everyone, and still it would be the most precious element on the face of the earth. What you own, everyone wants, and everyone could have, if they just knew where you found it, how you got it. You have what they need. You have peace. You have hope. You know that everything is going to get better, some day, and you know how that’s going to happen. You know this, and most people don’t.

Except, we don’t always remember this, do we? I tell you that you have peace, and you might just disagree with me. I don’t have peace, at least not all the time. I don’t have peace most of the time. I worry. I fret. I’m anxious. I’m trying to figure out the answers just like everyone else. I’m worried for my job, just like every other person. I’m wondering how I’m going to afford tuition. I’m wondering how long my retirement account will keep me going. I’m wondering how long I’m going to stay healthy. I worry for my children. I worry for my grandchildren. I don’t have always have peace. I don’t always have security. I want what everyone else wants. I want to know the answers. I want hope.

You have it, you just might not know it. You have peace, you just might not feel peaceful. You have hope, you just might not feel hopeful. You have it, and other people want it. We are 6 weeks out from Christmas. Six weeks ago, we are singing, “Joy to the world, the Lord is come.” Remember the hope and peace that Christmas brings? The joy, the wonder, the sense of well-being. The shalom.

But six weeks is a long time to hang on to those peaceful feelings. January hits, and the February, and the gray skies bring gray attitudes. Joy, peace, hope went out with the Christmas cards. The sense of well-being becomes a sense of foreboding. What’s next around the corner? Peanuts with salmonella? More lay-offs? What new problem, what new struggle, what new enemy will we face?

Six weeks is a long time to hold on to the joy of Christmas. 2000 years is even harder. Jesus was born, He lived, He died, He rose again, but so what? How does this help us? What good does it do? Where’s the peace, where’s the hope, where’s the joy to the world because the Lord came?

The peace, the hope, the joy is right where it’s always been. Near Jesus. With Him. Him with us. We have the peace, the hope, the joy, even if we’ve forgotten. We know the answer, though we might not remember. We have what everybody wants, and we have enough to share.

The nation of Israel wondered where to find their hope and joy and peace, too. They had their economic struggles, their health issues. But they also had a real, live enemy attacking, and the enemy won. The Aramites had set their sights on the nation of Israel, and the Aramites won. They had broke through the Israelite forces and entered the land. They had stolen, they had kidnapped, they had absolutely ruined the lives of the people of Israel.

And no one had done more to cause the suffering and pain than a man called Naaman. Naaman was the face of the enemy. Verse 1:

Now Naaman was commander of the army of the king of Aram. He was a great man in the sight of his master and highly regarded, because through him the LORD had given victory to Aram.

We’ve heard this story, some of us since we were old enough to hear. We know the story from our childhood. But we know this story in another way, too. We know this story because we’re in this story. This story is about us. We can think about the people who have made our lives miserable. From corporate executives who receive billions of dollars in bonuses while people lose their jobs, to people right around us who make our lives miserable, we know who they are. We might not know they’re names, we might not recognize their faces, but we know who to blame.

And the people of Israel blamed Naaman. Everyone knew that he was responsible for the captivity and plunder. Naaman’s king knew. Naaman knew. And the Israelites knew. So they weren’t really that sad when word got out that public enemy number 1 had contracted a deadly disease. Verse 1:

He was a valiant soldier, but he had leprosy.

Maybe, they thought, this was God’s judgment on this evil man. Maybe, they thought, he deserved it. Maybe, they thought, he deserved the disease that was eating him alive. Maybe they should just leave well enough alone and let God’s judgment run it’s course.

Well, we know one of them wasn’t thinking this way. Verse 2:

Now bands from Aram had gone out and had taken captive a young girl from Israel, and she served Naaman’s wife. She said to her mistress, “If only my master would see the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy.”

If anyone had a reason to complain, if anyone had a reason to wish Naaman would suffer, it would be this little girl. She had been taken away from her family, from her home, and put to work for the enemy’s family. If anyone had lost hope, it would have been this girl. But she hadn’t lost hope. She had hope, and she wanted to share this hope with someone who desperately needed it. She had plenty of hope, plenty to share. She didn’t see Naaman as an enemy. She saw Naaman as needing what she had.

So Naaman went to the king of Israel. The girl had said to go see the prophet, but Naaman went to the king. And though the king should have had the same hope as the girl, though the king could have pointed Naaman in the right direction, the king, instead, is scared. Verse 7:

As soon as the king of Israel read the letter, he tore his robes and said, “Am I God? Can I kill and bring back to life? Why does this fellow send someone to me to be cured of his leprosy? See how he is trying to pick a quarrel with me!”

The king doesn’t know how to help this enemy, and he’s scared. After all, what will Naaman do to him if he fails to cure him? He’s already plundered the nation. Now, will Naaman take down the king? If Naaman is angry enough, if Naaman is vengeful enough, the king is in trouble. And so the king wants nothing to do with this.

But Elisha does. Verse 8:

When Elisha the man of God heard that the king of Israel had torn his robes, he sent him this message: “Why have you torn your robes? Have the man come to me and he will know that there is a prophet in Israel.”

Elisha knows hope. Elisha hasn’t been beat. And Elisha’s not scared to share the hope. He knows where hope comes from, and he knows there’s plenty to go around. And, Elisha is compassionate. Even though Naaman has ravaged his country, bringing pain and suffering to Elisha’s people, Elisha responds with kindness and care.

Naaman, though, doesn’t respond so well. First, he’s not at all happy that Elisha doesn’t even meet with him. Naaman is an important man, and all he gets is the servant meeting him at the door? Who do they think he is, anyway? Let’s show a little respect to the great general. And then, and then, Naaman is supposed to wash in the Jordan river, and that’s supposed to cure the disease? This is nuts, absolutely crazy.

But Naaman really doesn’t have a choice. Naaman is pretty much out of options. He has tried everything, every cure, every remedy, every hope in the nation of Aram, and all of them have failed. He’s gone to the top, to the king of Aram and the king of Israel, and the government can’t help him out. He has no other choice. Either he looks like a fool and believes what Elisha is telling him, or his body just simply falls apart. Even his own servants see the predicament, and even they tell him to do what he’s told.

He has no other option, so, verse 14:

he went down and dipped himself in the Jordan seven times, as the man of God had told him, and his flesh was restored and became clean like that of a young boy.

He listened to the man of God. He found the hope. He received the healing. He found what he was looking for, from the only place he’d ever be able to find it.

People are still looking for what Naaman found. They’re looking for answers. They’re wishing for hope. They’re desperate for healing. And we have the answers. Except it doesn’t feel like it, does it? We feel weak and helpless, too. We don’t have all the answers. We want hope. We need healing. What do we have to offer anyone? Actually, we have everything. Philippians 4:19 promises:

my God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus.

That’s a promise to us, and that’s a promise to them, to anyone who will listen.

But maybe we don’t want to tell them. After all, maybe they deserve what they get. They broke God’s law, they suffer the consequences. They’re the enemy. Those people over there, they’re the ones who make this world miserable. If people would live like us, if they would act like us, our world would be so much nicer. If they act so irresponsibly, if they ignore the warnings, if they don’t do the right thing, why should we get involved? Why should we offer to help?

Well, because we were them. We were the enemy. We defied God. We acted irresponsibly. We ignored God’s warnings. We sinned, and we knew we sinned. And, from Romans 5:8:

While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

And if Christ did that for us, while we were still sinners, maybe we can show some compassion for others, while they are still sinning.

But what can we do? How can we help? How can we give them what they need? Who are we to offer anything? People are lonely. How can we cure loneliness? People are despairing. How can we cure despair? Who are we to be able to do anything for someone who has lost their job, or lost their home? Well, the truth is, we can’t do anything, but we know who can. He cures loneliness, both with His presence, and by sending us to visit and call. He turns despair into hope, in a way that only He can. When a job is lost, a home is foreclosed, a future is in jeopardy, He provides His riches, through His church, through His people, sometimes in miraculous ways. His death and resurrection are the key, they’re the answer. That’s where we find our hope. That’s where others can find their peace.

But when we tell them that’s the answer, some of them will think we’re nuts. We’re crazy. Believe in Jesus? Trust in Him? Turn responsibility of our lives over to the Lord? What are you talking about? I need to be in charge. I need to know what I’m trusting. Other sources of help make much more sense. Bailouts, government intervention, investments, that’s how we’re going to get out of this mess. Friends, a good job, that’s where I find hope and peace. Power, influence, that’s how we’ll stay safe.

And when they’ve tried everything else, and everything else hasn’t worked, and it never does, they’ll be back. They’ll be desperate enough to try anything. They’ll be desperate enough to try Jesus, and they’ll finally find the answer. We know that things don’t immediately turn healthy and happy. I wish that we could be healed as fast as Naaman was. Sometimes, that happens. We’ve heard stories of God’s amazing power transforming lives in a very short period of time.

But even though the healing and restoration might take time, we have hope, and our friends can have hope too. We have peace, and they can have peace, as well. And that peace, that hope, that certainty keeps us going. They need to know what you know. They need to have what you have. They need to know where you found it. They need, just like we need, hope.