“‘If he had commanded you to do something difficult,

would you not have done it?’”

–2 Kings 5:13b

One day during my seminary years, I went to see a movie called “Fanny and Alexander.”  Usually, I would check out a review or act on the recommendation of someone who had seen a film before going myself. On that occasion, I just felt like a break.  I scanned the local paper and decided on the movie because it was at a theater within walking distance of campus and showing soon. I should have been a bit more selective.

The film was directed by the cinema legend Ingmar Bergman. It had not occurred to me that the dialogue would be in his native language of Swedish, but it was. I thought it would make the experience an adventure, but the subtitles proved exhausting. For 2 hours and 51 minutes (I looked it up), I sat there reading the dialogue and watching the action, hoping the film would get better. I was still hoping when it finally ended. 

As the credits appeared and the lights came up, I stepped toward the aisle and waited as others made their way to the exit. I was relieved the film was over, but my solace must have been mild when compared to a woman behind me. As we made our way out of the theater, I heard her say to a friend “You know, I really should have brought my glasses. I couldn’t see a thing!”

Sometimes, the small act makes all the difference.  In her case, it was an oversight (no pun intended). On other occasions, though, the rejection or overlooking of a small thing is more intentional.

Such was the case for the man to whom words above were addressed. Naaman was a commander in the Syrian army. The fifth chapter of Second Kings describes him as a “great man” held “in high favor.” He enjoyed a comfortable existence at home, too, yet Naaman had a problem. The text calls it leprosy, but probably not the condition referred to in our time as Hansen’s Disease. Naaman suffered greatly from it.

One day, a female servant of his wife mentions that in her homeland of Israel there is a prophet who could cure Naaman. She is speaking of Elisha and when Naaman hears of that conversation he goes to the king who then sends the military officer on his way with a letter and gifts for the king of Israel. The letter isn’t precise in the request, not mentioning Elisha, but does ask his neighboring sovereign to cure Naaman. With that word, Israel’s king tears his clothes—an ancient sign of grief and distress—as he is sure the king of Aram is setting him up for failure.        

Elisha hears of his king’s reaction. “Let [Naaman] come to me,” he says “that he may learn that there is a prophet in Israel.” The Syrian sets out with his horses and chariots. When the entourage arrives, Elisha doesn’t come out to greet Naaman, but sends this message:  “Go wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored and you shall be clean.”  

Naaman is incensed.  His pride is wounded by Elisha staying in the house, but also seems to be looking for a bigger show. “I thought that for me he would surely come out, and stand and call on the name of the Lord his God, and would wave his hand over the spot, and cure the leprosy!” He is insulted by the idea of washing in the Jordan River, too, and displays some nationalistic pride as he adds “Are not Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel?” Naaman is about to storm away when a wise advisor stops him. “Father, if the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it?  How much more, when all he said to you was, ‘Wash, and be clean?’” Naaman does as Elisha instructed and is immediately cured.

What is the simple thing God is seeking from you on this day? It likely isn’t going to bath in a nearby body of water, but could be equally modest in scope.

As perhaps our Maker wants you to write a note to someone you have wronged asking for her forgiveness. Maybe God wants you to go across the street and welcome the new neighbor.  Perhaps Jesus’ father is seeking for you to call a long-time friend with whom you have lost touch, or decide that instead of a week of vacation this summer you will participate in a church mission trip. Or maybe it’s something else entirely.

Naaman learned that oftentimes it isn’t the large gesture God seeks, but something much simpler. And his story demonstrates, too, that if we refuse, even if for good reason, we can miss out on the very thing that will change a life.

I can’t tell you what that simple act might be for you. Yet the narrative suggests it could be a gesture that while smaller than what you expected is one well within your capabilities. And one, if taken, that would allow you to begin experiencing the kind of wholeness and joy God intends.    

God of the journey, open my heart this day to the simple gesture you desire from me.  Instead of resisting it, instead of waiting for something more dramatic or strenuous, help me then to act.  Amen.