Naaman pursues his journey all the more happy for thinking he has done something in return for the great benefit which has been conferred on him. He is certainly more pleased than otherwise. The man of God has at last been turned, he thinks, into directions indicated by common sense.
All this has come about in the way of business; for nothing that is not customary has been done.
Gehazi is satisfied, and Elisha knows nothing about it. The servant should have something, even if the master would take nothing. It is the trick of our own day. The servant is always at the door with his rheumatic hand, ready to take any thing that may be put into it. We leave nothing with the master; it would be an insult to him.
So far the case looks simple, natural and complete; and we have said Elisha knows nothing about it.
Why will men trifle with prophets?
Why will men play with fire?
When will men know that what is done in secret will be published on the house tops?
When will men know that there can be nothing confidential that is wicked?
Observe Gehazi going in to his master as usual, and look at his face; not a sign upon it of any thing having been done that is wrong. Look at his hands--large, white, innocent-looking hands that never doubled their fingers on things that did not belong to them.
Look at Elisha. Fixing his eyes calmly upon Gehazi, he asks:
“Whence comest thou, Gehazi?”
“Thy servant went no whither.”
Gehazi meant it to be understood that he had been on the premises all the time; always within call; the lifting up of a finger would have brought him.
Then came the speech of judgment, delivered in a low tone, but every word was heard--the beginning of the word and the end of the word--and the last word was like a sting of righteousness.
“Went not mine heart with thee?”
Oh, that heart! The good man knows when wickedness has been done. Christ knows when He enters into the congregation whether there is a man in it with a withered hand.
“Went not mine heart with thee?” Was I not present at the interview? Did I not hear every syllable that was said on the one side and on the other? Did I not look at thee when thou didst tell the black, flat and daring lie?
Then came the infliction of the judgment:
“The leprosy, therefore, of Naaman shall cleave unto thee, and unto thy seed for ever.”
Thou, Gehazi, hast touched the silver, not knowing that it was contagious and held the leprosy; thou didst bring in the two changes of garments, not knowing that the germs of the disease were folded up with the cloth. Put on the coat; it will scorch thee.
“He went out from his presence a leper as white as snow.”
A splendid conception is this silent departure. Not a word was said, not a protest uttered. The judgment was felt to be just. “Cast ye the unprofitable servant into outer darkness.” “These shall go away into everlasting punishment.”
Oh, the hush--the solemn silence! The judgment seemed to begin with the sound of trumpets and the rending of things that apparently could not be shaken; at the end there is simply a going away, a silent motion, a conviction that the sentence is right.
See Gehazi as he goes out of Elisha’s presence, and regard him as a specimen of those who, having been judged, on the last day will depart.
Men should consider the price which they really pay for their success.
The grateful Syrian would gladly have pressed upon Elisha gifts of high value, but the holy man resolutely refused to take any thing, lest the glory redounding unto God from this great act should in any degree be obscured. But his servant, Gehazi, was less scrupulous, and hastened with a lie in his mouth to ask, in his master’s name, for a portion of that which Elisha had refused.
The illustrious Syrian no sooner saw the man running after his chariot than he alighted to meet him, and being glad to relieve himself in some degree under the sense of overwhelming obligation, he sent him back with more than he ventured to ask.
Nothing more is known of Naaman.
We afterward find Gehazi recounting to King Joram the great deeds of Elisha, and in the providence of God it so happened that when he was relating the restoration to life of the Shunnammite’s son, the very woman with her son appeared before the king to claim her house and lands, which had been usurped while she had been absent abroad during the recent famine. Struck by the coincidence, the king immediately granted her application.