'Naaman’ Photo: by Tino Serbu.
‘Please let your servant be given as much earth as a pair of mules can carry.’ (2 Kings 5:17)
Grounded theology: Janet Scott on the healing of Naaman
The book of Bible stories I was given as a child was affected by the post-war rationing of paper. It was close print; there were few illustrations and they were small, simple line drawings. The only colour in the book was on the front cover, which carried a picture of the Israelite servant girl, a captive in war, who told her mistress that the prophet in Israel could cure the master’s leprosy. So I first met this story of Naaman (found in 2 Kings, chapter 5) as a story of a helpful child. Mature reflection suggests that she must have been well treated to have wished her master well, and to have had the confidence to suggest a way to seek a cure.
If we read it as the story of Naaman, we find a rich and powerful man: commander of the army, confidant of the king. He is so important that when he arrives in Israel bearing a letter from his king he is close to causing a diplomatic incident. He can be arrogant – as when he disparages the command to wash in the Jordan when there are bigger and better rivers back home – but he is also a man who listens to advice, and does not despise his servants. He listens to them and so he is able to be healed.
The story is part of the sequence of stories of the prophet Elisha. He does not always fit our stereotype of a prophet (see 2 Kings 2:23-4) but in this account he would probably meet with George Fox’s approval! He is not at all impressed by the chariot and horses, the gold, and the entourage. He does not indulge in long prayers or rituals for show. He does not even come out of his house to give the instructions for healing but just sends a message. Afterwards, he refuses any gifts or reward.
Nowadays I find that the most interesting part of the story is Naaman’s request for two mule-loads of earth. Naaman has decided that Yahweh, the god of Israel, is the only true god. He wants to worship this god, but his understanding is that each god belongs to a particular land, and so to worship the god of Israel he must take with him enough land to stand on as he worships.
It is a fascinating illumination of a stage in the development of concepts of God, which we call henotheism – that is, choosing one God to worship out of the many. It was to be another three centuries before the prophet we call Second Isaiah proclaimed explicit monotheism (‘I am the Lord and there is no other; there is no god but me’ (45:5)). There is no way that Naaman could think that when he goes to the temple of Rimmon it is the same god under a different name.
It helps explain why the Israelites so often worshipped the gods of Canaan. They were the gods of the land and Yahweh was originally Lord of Hosts – god of armies.
I wonder how territorial we still are in our view of God. It is obvious in times of war. But, more subtly, do we Quakers feel that the God we know somehow belongs to us? Do we carry with us our loads of Quaker earth on which to stand and worship?