Today we are continuing our conversation through the book of 2 Kings, where we’ve been tracing the theme of How will we persist?
In chapter 1, King Ahaziah persisted in looking to other gods for help.
But the angel of the Lord said to Elijah the Tishbite, “Go up and meet the messengers of the king of Samaria and ask them, ‘Is it because there is no God in Israel that you are going off to consult Baal-Zebub, the god of Ekron?’”(2 Kings 1:3)
In chapter 2, Elisha persisted in being with his mentor, coach, discipler, and predecessor.
When they had crossed, Elijah said to Elisha, “Tell me, what can I do for you before I am taken from you?”
“Let me inherit a double portion of your spirit,” Elisha replied. (2 Kings 2:9)
This was not a greedy, asking-for-more moment. It was a request to be an heir—to have the Elijah’s responsibility passed on to him as was done with a firstborn.
In chapter 3, there was a persisting in building alliances, making plans, and assembling battle forces—and perceivably a persistence in not asking God for help until it was absolutely dire.
Elisha said to the king of Israel, “Why do you want to involve me? Go to the prophets of your father and the prophets of your mother.”
“No,” the king of Israel answered, “because it was the Lord who called us three kings together to deliver us into the hands of Moab.” (2 Kings 3:13)
In chapter 4, we saw a shift in focus from the epic, the king, the nations onto ordinary people. There was a widow who was about to lose her sons to debt collectors, who persisted in getting jars for oil. There was a Shunammite woman who was persistent in being a blessing to Elisha, and then when her son died, she persisted in getting Elisha’s (God’s) help. And then there was a famine. Someone persisted in making a stew, and when it was poisonous, God fixed it. Someone else persisted in making some bread, and when it wasn’t enough for all the people, God made it so there were leftovers.
Let’s dive into a conversation about persistence. As a starting point, here’s a short list of some things in life that plead for persistence:
Maintaining physical health
Building and sustaining relationships
Working faithfully at a job or vocation
Managing money wisely
Raising and caring for family
Learning and growing throughout life
Recovering from setbacks and failures
Persevering through grief and loss
Managing stress and emotional challenges
Developing character and integrity
Serving and caring for others
Growing spiritually and trusting God
With all of these things, a single moment of accomplishment is great, but it isn’t enough. One workout doesn’t make a person healthy. Showing up for work once doesn’t make a person a good employee. Putting some money in savings once doesn’t make someone a good money manager.
Use this list as a starting point but don’t feel confined by it.
Where is life pleading for persistence?
Irony is a contrast between expectation and reality. It occurs when there is a striking difference between what is said and what is meant, or between what is expected to happen and what actually occurs. Our text in 2 Kings 5 is full of irony. But before we go there, I want to point out that irony is also a big part of the Gospels. Here are some examples:
The religious experts—the people most prepared to recognize God’s work—often oppose Jesus, while ordinary people and sinners respond in faith. (John 9:39–41, Matthew 21:31–32)
When the disciples argue about who is greatest, Jesus points to a child. The least important person in the room becomes the example of greatness. (Mark 9:33–37, Matthew 18:1–4)
The hero of the story of the Good Samaritan is the person Jesus’ audience would have least expected. The outsider loves his neighbor better than the religious leaders. (Luke 10:25–37)
The rich young ruler, a morally impressive man, walks away from Jesus. The man who has everything lacks what matters most. (Mark 10:17–31)
Zacchaeus, a despised tax collector, receives Jesus with joy, and so the town’s villain becomes a model of repentance. (Luke 19:1–10)
Jesus explains that his mission will be fulfilled through suffering and death. The Messiah conquers by surrendering. (John 12:23–24, Mark 8:31–35)
On the night before his death, Jesus performs a servant’s task, washing His disciples’ feet. The Lord takes the lowest place. (John 13:1–17)
Roman soldiers mock Jesus with royal symbols. The crucifixion is a coronation, and their mockery declares the truth. (Matthew 27:27–31, John 19:1–3)
Our text for today, 2 Kings 5, is a chapter packed with irony.
If things went as expected, the people in power would have no struggles. The people who have been hurt or marginalized or abducted wouldn’t look out for the needs of the ones who hurt them. A leader wouldn’t let his followers go to an enemy for help. A powerful king would relish a chance to show off his power. A great military leader would be met with a show of respect, not just a secondary messenger. A person asking for help and being given instructions to solve his problems wouldn’t second guess what he was told. The person with more power, not the servant, would make the decisions. Someone who was helpful and was then offered great wealth in appreciation would accept the gift. And the employee of a wise leader would appreciate that great leadership, not second-guess it. That’s how things work, right?
Before we dive into the story, let me ask you this question: What is your range of emotions when irony appears in your life? When a person who works so hard to be healthy has a painful diagnosis.When the most qualified person gets overlooked. When avoiding conflict causes painful conflict. When the technology that is designed to make your life easier complicates things beyond measure. When the endless drive to be successful leads to burnout. When efforts to be confident lead a person to look arrogant. When expertise leads to an overwhelming feeling of knowing what you don’t know. When efforts to control cause people to rebel. When there is a vast distance between what is expected to happen and what actually occurs.
What is your range of emotions when irony appears in your life?
Keep all these things in mind—irony, persistence, the unexpected ways that God works—as we dive in to 2 Kings 5.
The people you think are going to get it, don’t. The people you think aren’t going to get it, do. The powerful are helpless; the weak are wise. The outsider moves toward God. The insider misses it.
2 Kings 5 opens with a man named Naaman. And this is definitely not the person we expect to become the center of a story about God’s healing.
Naaman is the commander of the army of Aram or Syria, an enemy nation of Israel.These are the people raiding Israelite towns and villages. They are taking supplies, taking livestock, taking people captive. And yet the story introduces Naaman almost like a celebrity. He is called great, honored, a mighty warrior. This is a man with influence. Power. Success. Connections. A national hero.
But then the text abruptly shifts with a but: “But he had leprosy.”
And immediately irony enters the story. The strong man is weak and helpless. He can’t fix this.
Next we meet a young servant girl working in Naaman’s household. She is vulnerable in this story—young, female, taken captive from Israel. She has no status. No reason to believe anyone would listen to her. We don’t even know her name. And if life worked the way we expect, she would hate Naaman. She had every reason.
But instead, she speaks hope. “If only my master would see the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy.”
What?! Why would she even want this man healed? Why would she want to help Naaman? And yet instead of seeking revenge, she persists in mercy.
And in another unexpected plot twist, Naaman listens. He is desperate. So Naaman goes to the king of Aram and asks permission to go.
And the king says, “Absolutely. Go.” Naaman is too important to lose. So he leaves, bringing silver, gold, clothing, and a letter from the king, hoping all these treasurers will help him in his pursuit of healing.
But when he arrives before the king of Israel, everything falls apart. The king tears his robes. “Am I God?” The king assumes this is a trap. He’s asking for the impossible. Maybe it is a set up for war.
When Elisha hears what happened, he tells the king to send Naaman to him. So Naaman arrives at Elisha’s house. He brings horses and chariots—a military procession. He arrives like a king. And if things worked the way we expect, Elisha would welcome and honor him, recognizing his importance. But Elisha does not even come outside. He sends a messenger to say, “Go, wash yourself seven times in the Jordan, and your flesh will be restored and you will be cleansed.”
That’s it. Nothing dramatic. Nothing complicated. No ceremony. No spectacles.
And Naaman is furious. He expected recognition and importance. Maybe some drama. Instead, it’s an easy, humble, lowly thing. And Naaman questions why healing should come through Israel’s river instead of those of Damascus, through something so ordinary.
And once again the servants become the wise voices in the story. They look at Naaman, they see how simple it is, and they say: “If the prophet had asked you to do some great thing, wouldn’t you have done it?” How much more then, when he says, Wash and be cleaned!?”
Naaman wants it to be impressive. Elisha just wants simple obedience. Naaman is being asked to surrender. And somehow again Naaman listens to his servants and goes down into the Jordan and washes 7 times. And when he comes out of the water, he is clean.
Naaman returns to Elisha and says: “Now I know that there is no God in all the world except in Israel. So please accept a gift from your servant.” He offers Elisha everything he brought, but Elisha refuses it all. So instead Naaman asks to take dirt from Israel home to build an altar to Yahweh. And Elisha lets him and says, “Go in peace.”
I know I’ve had moments where it’s been tough to listen to someone else. Maybe I don’t think they have it figured out, or maybe I don’t trust them or just don’t want to listen to them, but out of nowhere, they give me an unexpectedly good piece of advice.
What do you think or feel when you receive wisdom, help, or grace from someone you normally would have overlooked?
This point in the story would be a perfect ending. Everything is great. Naaman has been healed. He’s a changed man. The enemy is going home transformed.
But instead, irony strikes again. Because now the outsider in the story is no longer Naaman. Now it is Gehazi, Elisha’s servant. Gehazi should be the insider, the one who understands. But Gehazi watches Naaman leave with all that wealth and thinks it’s ridiculous that they didn’t accept any of it from him. So he secretly chases Naaman down.
And Naaman—notice the irony here—jumps down from his chariot to greet the servant. The once proud commander has become humble.
But Gehazi lies. He invents a story about needing some silver and clothes for visiting prophets. And Naaman gladly gives it to him. Then Gehazi heads home, and when he’s on the other side of the hill before Elisha can see, he sneaks home to hide them. And then he lies to Elisha, to the prophet of God. But Elisha knows. And he asks Gehazi, “Is this the time to take money or to accept clothes?” In other words, do you understand what God was doing here at all? This was never about profit. This was about revealing Yahweh to the nations.
And the final irony lands heavily. Naaman’s leprosy passes to Gehazi. The outsider becomes clean. The insider becomes unclean. The enemy finds peace. And the servant of the prophet leaves diseased.
And centuries later, Jesus reminds them of the story of Naaman in Luke 4, saying, “There were many in Israel with leprosy in the time of Elisha the prophet, yet not one of them was cleansed—only Naaman the Syrian.” And the Jewish people didn’t like this reminder—they were furious. The outsiders were responding to God, while the insiders kept missing what God was doing.
This story—this moment with Jesus—is both comforting and disconcerting. On one hand, we see that the Kingdom of God is wide enough to welcome everyone in, including the outsiders—the people that shouldn’t get it. We see in this story that God’s mercy is wider than people expect. But on the other hand, the people that expected to see it, missed it. It’s such an uncomfortable feeling. I don’t want to miss it. It makes me kind of nervous. Let’s talk about it.
What are some ways a person can be close to the things of God, and miss the heart of God?
Jesus often told stories where expectations were overturned. Stories where grace disrupted people’s assumptions about who deserves what. In Matthew 20, Jesus shares a parable that is loaded with irony:
“For the kingdom of heaven is like a householder who went out early in the morning to hire laborers for his vineyard. After agreeing with the laborers for a denarius a day, he sent them into his vineyard. And going out about the third hour he saw others standing idle in the market place; and to them he said, ‘You go into the vineyard too, and whatever is right I will give you.’ So they went.
Going out again about the sixth hour and the ninth hour, he did the same. And about the eleventh hour he went out and found others standing; and he said to them, ‘Why do you stand here idle all day?’ They said to him, ‘Because no one has hired us.’ He said to them, ‘You go into the vineyard too.’
And when evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his steward, ‘Call the laborers and pay them their wages, beginning with the last, up to the first.’ And when those hired about the eleventh hour came, each of them received a denarius. Now when the first came, they thought they would receive more; but each of them also received a denarius. And on receiving it they grumbled at the householder, saying, ‘These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.’
But he replied to one of them, ‘Friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for a denarius? Take what belongs to you, and go; I choose to give to this last as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or do you begrudge my generosity?’ So the last will be first, and the first last.” (Matthew 20:1-16)
God’s grace. God’s provision. God’s direction. God’s love. God’s peace. God’s hope. Somehow we expect that these things have to be earned. We have to try harder, be better, focus more, be perfect to receive an earned measure of these things. We expect rewards to correspond to status, effort, or merit. We become frustrated when God’s grace doesn’t follow our calculations.
But the irony is that it is not by earning, but by generous grace.
Our pride dictates what we think we’re entitled to—what we’ve “earned.” But when we’re receiving the generosity of God, we don’t really have a say. Like the workers in the vineyard, they were receiving the master’s generosity. This illustrates how “outsiders” can receive God’s favor, which was a repeated lesson that Jesus brought to the religious leaders during His ministry.
And what is the last line of this parable? In verse 16 we read, “So the last will be first, and the first last.” This brings us to the realization that God’s Kingdom operates much differently than human systems. In the human economy, earning more means receiving more, and higher status means greater privilege. But in the kingdom economy, trusting God means receiving grace. We receive what God freely gives. The focus shifts from merit to mercy.
How does persistence change when we believe God’s grace is a gift to be received rather than a reward to be earned?
Take It Deeper Questions
Read 2 Kings 5:1-15.
What makes it hard for you to ask for help?
What usually leads you to ask for help?
How do pride and humility affect the way we receive help from others?
What becomes more clear about God as we see this miracle for an obstinate outsider?
How are you challenged, encouraged, focused, and/or confused by this text?
Bible Reading Plan
Isaiah 6 • Clean Lips and Commission
Isaiah 55 • Come and Be Healed
Matthew 8 • The Centurion’s Faith
Luke 4 • Naaman Remembered
John 9 • Wash and See
Mark 1 • Healing the Unclean
2 Kings 6 • The Floating Axe Head