Naaman, M.G. Pearse

Dear All,

 I discovered yet another spiritual preacher.

 Mark Guy Pearse (3 January 1842 – 1 January 1930) was a Cornish Methodist preacher, lecturer and author who, during the last quarter of the 19th century and the first of the 20th, was a household name throughout Britain and beyond.  

I am currently reading about Naaman the leper, and I found a quote by him that was truly worthwhile contemplating.  In the course of that, I accessed one of his books and came across this gem.

 "If He would uplift the world, the first thing is to make life sacred, the very beginning of it. Infanticide was scarcely a crime at His coming anywhere but in Palestine, and even there without any ado or great horror, Herod, to quiet his uneasy fear, can send out his soldiers and slay all the young children through the coasts. Here, then, is the problem, —How shall He make childhood sacred? How uplift and hallow the world's opinion of the little child?  How bring all the world's tenderness and pity about the babe, and gather all the world's might for the protection of the little one? Shall He go forth and tell with sweet words of their charms, a champion of their claims? Shall He go forth with fiery indignation against their wrongs and hurl angry threats at all that degraded and dishonored them? Come and see how it is done. He Himself comes as the little Babe of Bethlehem, wrapped in swaddling clothes, and laid in a manger. Controversy, conflict, terror, destruction, —where are they? He cannot break a bruised reed. He cannot quench a smoking flax, He who lies as the Babe upon the mother's bosom. Thus He uplifted and hallowed the little child and made it a thing almost divine, —of such is the Kingdom of Heaven. Thus He made motherhood sacred, and left it the mightiest power to soften and ennoble men in all the world."

--The Gentleness of Jesus, M.G. Pearse, 1898

 

So, without further ado,

Now Naaman, captain of the host of the king of Syria, was a great man with his master, and honourable, because by him the LORD had given deliverance unto Syria: he was also a mighty man in valour, but he was a leper. 

And the Syrians had gone out by companies, and had brought away captive out of the land of Israel a little maid; and she waited on Naaman's wife. 

And she said unto her mistress, Would God my lord were with the prophet that is in Samaria! for he would recover him of his leprosy. 2Ki 5:1-3 

 Naaman, the Syrian

I. In turning to the story of this Naaman, the first thing that I would notice is a contrast in service. We set him before us dwelling in the stately palace of the king, the commander of the king's armies; with authority to speak to the whole nation, and all men are ready to obey him: with troops of horses and hosts of chariots, and servants that wait upon him and minister to him. Altogether, in council and in camp, the foremost man in Syria. And as brave as he was wise, of whose valor many a stirring tale was told. Here is greatness: great in himself, great in his position, great in his possessions, great in his achievements, great in his authority: no element of greatness is lacking. Then do you notice how beside this word great there is set the word little; and alongside of this mighty man of valor is put the record of this captive maid? Poor little thing, her story is a very sad one. A troop of Syrians marching one day into Israel—fierce fellows, burning the homesteads of the villagers, before whom the frightened people fled to the mountains or caves—had come to some cottage, and there, it may be, tending a sick mother, too feeble to escape, or guarding some little one of the family whom she would not forsake, this girl is taken captive and carried away by the soldiers. They sell her as a slave to Naaman's wife. A stranger in a strange land, with the memory of her bitter griefs—in thought and feeling, and hope and religion, severed from those about her, so she must wait upon her mistress and do her bidding, with none to befriend her. We can think of her sighing in her loneliness. "Ah, me; if I were only King of Syria, or even this great lord, I would set right the wrongs of the poor folks, and bid the cruel soldiers stay at home. I would have no burning cottages, no ruined homes, and no poor captive men or maidens if I were king. How good it must be to be so great! But I am only a little maiden; what can I do? here there are so many troubles? It is dreadful to be so weak and little." And yet this little maid it is who brings deliverance to the great man of Syria, for in her are two things that are never little—a kind heart and faith in God. So, in the great world, with its sorrows, there is always room for loving-kindness and for faith in God. It is not greatness that the poor world wants mostly, not chief captains or men of valor; but love. The little, and the least, with love and faith, can always find a place for service; a service that is always blessed, and shall have its golden wages. Our measure for service is not in position, nor in gifts, nor in greatness, but in love. Her tender love and simple faith do set this little maid alongside of this great captain. Take it, I pray you, for whom it is meant, and give thanks to God. Say it and sing it within yourself: "If in this great world I can do nothing else, I can do this—and since I can do this I will envy none. Wherever I am I can keep a simple faith in God and a kind heart." Thank God, little one, that He has a place for thee.

II. Notice the wisdom of Naaman. He no sooner hears that there is a chance of his being cured than he sets off for the prophet. He does not despise the suggestion because it is a prophet of Israel who has the power. If this is a chance of his being cured he will go forth and seek it. He might very naturally have said, "I will get my master, the King of Syria, to write a letter to the King of Israel, and he can send the prophet to see me. The prophet is much better able to travel than I am; and it is altogether more fitting that he should come here. It is an enemy's country, and the people may oppose my coming, and I am ill fit to journey. I will send my horses and chariots, and a company of soldiers for his escort, and I will pay him well for his coming." So he might have said, but that will not do. He will go himself. There must be no delay. If there is a chance of being cured he will do his best to avail himself of that chance. At once everybody in the place is set to work to hasten his going. Now do not let this Naaman the Syrian rise up in judgment against us. We have heard that in Jesus Christ is our salvation; that there is One who is able to break the power of our sin, to rid us from its loathsomeness, and to make us whole. To us the testimony concerning the salvation which is in Christ Jesus comes from ten thousand who have found in Him their deliverance from the curse and power of sin, the cleansing from its foul leprosy. Think if he should bid his musicians sing of this: Elisha, and chant his greatness, and week after week should sit and listen to the story of the captive maiden. "I like to hear her," says he, "she is so much in earnest, and her gestures are so graceful, and her words so well chosen." O fool! and all the time the leprosy is eating into him with horrid cruelty, deeper and deeper, and every day he is growing more hideous and scarred, and his case becomes more desperate. And the longer he delays the more he questions about going at all. And now the King of Syria comes to see him. "Well, have you been?" he asks. "Been where?" saith Naaman. "Why, to the great prophet that can heal thee of thy leprosy," cries the king, wondering. "No," saith Naaman, "I have not exactly been to him, you know. But I have heard all about him, and have got quite familiar with his name and history, and what he has said and done." "But surely," cries the astonished king, "it were as well never to have heard of him if you do not go." Then one day the tidings spread, "Naaman is dead"; died of his leprosy. Dead! and he knew so much about the prophet. And in the palace is heard the wail of the little maiden, "Would God my lord had gone to the prophet that is in Samaria." Alas! it is only in religion that men play the fool like this: only in the deeper and more dreadful leprosy of the soul! Can you imagine any greater folly, hearing of Christ as the Savior, year in and year out, and yet never coming to Him?  (M. G. Pearse.)