The dude was a master tactician, having won countless battles for his lord. Rising to the rank of general, we know he was capable politically as well. He knew which butts needed to be kissed and which needed kicking. He was also an accomplished swordsman and equally deadly with a spear or bow. He was a commander of men, leading them into battle and emerging victoriously. I imagine his body showed the scars of his many battles -- the star of an arrow, a jagged bolt from an axe, the smooth straight line from an enemy sword. His muscles bulged taught, strengthened from countless battles. He wore an iron helmet, his beard braided in a checkered pattern (very fashionable in ancient Syria!). He'd carry an iron-bound shield, iron sword, and iron-headed spear into battle. Because of his station, he would typically ride in a chariot, commanding his troops during the fighting.
Brains. Talent. Savvy. Huge pectoral muscles. Money. Respect. Bitchin' scars. No matter how you look at him, Naaman is the definition of bad-ass.
Except for one thing: Naaman had a skin disease. Not like a rash, or acne. This was serious stuff. Many traditional Bible translations call it 'leprosy,' which is freaking awful! It could also have been any number of other horrible, painful skin diseases. Google Image Search is not a good thing when you're looking up skin disease. Regardless of what it was, we know it hurt like a mother, and it was obvious to everyone who looked at him that something was wrong. Really wrong. Painfully, embarrassingly, awfully wrong.
Imagine sores and boils popping out pus all over your skin. You put ointment and bandages on it, but it keeps hurting and keeps spreading. Naaman was a great leader of men. He was respected and feared. Imagine what it would have been like for him. Always wondering if his men, the people on the streets during a victory parade, or even his own wife had to choke back disgust, swallow their own bile, just to look at him.
You can read about Naaman's healing in your Bible (2 Kings 5), but the gist of it is, he hears there's a man in Israel -- that's the little country south of Aram -- who might be able to heal him. Naaman takes a squad of his elite troops, choice slaves, and a caravan loaded down with money and commodities and heads down for treatment.
Being an important person (best friend of a king, bad ass warrior, and general), Naaman was understandably put out at his reception by the prophet Elisha. The dude didn't even come to the door to greet Naaman, instead he sent his butler who passed along the message that Naaman needed to bathe in the Jordan River seven times and he'd be all better.
At this point, Naaman just got pissed! "We've got better rivers in Damascus! What's wrong with them?" he raged. "You want me to splash around in your muddy cattle creek? First you insult me, and then you suggest I wallow in your cesspool of a 'river'! I'll tell you where you can..."
Like every good officer, Naaman kept someone around who could give it to him straight. His chief man-at-arms drew him aside and said, "If he told you to climb the highest mountain and retrieve a rare herb that grows there, would you have done it?"
 |
| Choke a lion with my bare hands? Is it Tuesday already? |
"And if he had told you to defeat 100 men in combat while blindfolded, would you have done that?"
"Without hesitation!"
"And I'm sure you would have battled a lion bare-handed if he had but asked. Then why do you balk at such a simple thing?" Naaman then went, washed, and was healed.
How simple, yet how hard it is for us as men to receive grace. We're tough. We're educated. We're qualified. We've worked hard, dammit! We need a challenge. We need to earn our reward. We're certified bad asses, like Naaman. OK, so maybe Naaman minus Jean-Claude Van Damme and plus a college degree, mortgage, and kids, but still...we're masters of our own destiny!
Maybe this is what we learn from Naaman. Sometimes we hurt. We hurt bad. Sometimes the cure is just as embarrassing as the symptoms. Or even more so. Sometimes our strength, talents, and intelligence doesn't add up to jack squat. That's a tough lump to swallow.
Beyond his physical prowess, his strategic mind, and his political connections, what makes Naaman truly badass is that he was humble enough to take good advice and follow it.
