Supreme Humility

 With the new week, I moved one week in the lectionary schedule without realizing that Ash Wednesday was the next week, and this is the last Sunday after Epiphany, Transfiguration Sunday. So I have updated my lectio divina, but I am continuing to benefit from reflecting on the healing of Naaman in 2 Kings 5. I am not at all suggesting that God slipped my brain so I would get this, but having done so, it is a reminder to me to tend to my personal humility.

 Yesterday I observed that the young (nameless in the text) girl who was captured as booty in war and made the slave of the wife of the commander of the army of Aram, was a magnificent example of living out Jesus principle of loving enemies (though, of course, Jesus had not yet spoken those words, but they are embedded in the Torah). In her obscurity, she is also an icon of godly humility, in contrast with Naaman and the kings of Aram and Israel.

 2 Kings 5:1 described Naaman, the commander of the army of the king of Aram, as a great man and mighty warrior in high favor with his master. Even though the guidance to seek healing through the prophet in Samaria came from a lowly source, Naaman and the King of Aram go to the King of Israel rather than the prophet. Arrogant power people thinking they can actually get something by demand and bribe. Of course, the king of Israel knows he cannot effect this healing, but he ignored Elisha, though he was obviously known to the king.

 The text does not say how Elisha knew what had happened and that the king of Israel had torn his clothes. Some have suggested that God revealed this too him, which may be possible, but the text says that Elisha “heard” of it. (v. 8) When Naaman’s entourage, horses and chariots and loot, stop in front of Elisha’s house, he refuses to play to the hubris of the power people but sends his servant out with simple if humiliating instructions. Wash seven times in the Jordan River.

 Naaman is insulted at the suggestion of washing in the Jordan River rather than the great rivers of Damascus. He is insulted not just that Elisha does not come out to greet such an important person, but that he does not perform a dramatic ceremony. He storms off in a huff. It takes humble servants, who with gentle encouragement get him to give it a “why not?” try. This is not an act of faith, yet it is effective.

 Maybe more incredulous than insulted when Elisha refused the grand reward in person. Now Naaman professes allegiance, if not what we would call faith, to the God of Israel. Takes a load of Israel dirt back to Damascus so he can worship the God of Israel on Israel soil. Elisha does not instruct him that this superstition is not necessary and even gives permission for him to bow when with the king of Aram worshipping their god Rimmon. Any trace of either Aram or Israel exceptionalism is dismissed.

 In much the same vein, the text (v. 1) indicates that the Lord gave Aram victory over Israel through Naaman. So viewed from God’s perspective, even the highest claims for power and pride are signs of the reality of humility.

 Not that it is all that unusual, but in recent months we have seen a lot of pride and power strutting on the public stage. And even those of us who eschew it are susceptible to the subtle pride of thinking we can exempt ourselves. So as my lectio divina this week moves on from a mental slip, I am instructed to be alert to slipping into the reverse arrogance of rejecting it in others while missing it in myself.