Naaman The Leper

Summary

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The Chosen People with Yael Eckstein

Episode: Naaman the Leper
Date: September 1, 2025
Host: Yael Eckstein / Pray.com

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Main Theme & Purpose

This episode brings to life the Old Testament story of Naaman the Leper (2 Kings 5), highlighting themes of pride, faith, humility, and grace. Through immersive, dramatic storytelling and authentic dialogue, the podcast explores not only Naaman’s miraculous healing but also the inner struggles of Elisha and his servant Gehazi. The episode reflects on how God’s miracles often challenge our expectations and invite us to transformation not through power, but humility and trust.

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Key Discussion Points & Insights

1. Setting the Stage – Expectations of Power vs. Humility

[05:11 – 09:13]

• The story sets Naaman, a proud and powerful Syrian commander, on a journey to Israel to seek a cure for his leprosy. He arrives with wealth and status, expecting to purchase his healing.
• King Joram of Israel is paralyzed by fear upon being asked to heal Naaman, fearing this is a prelude to war.
• Elisha, the prophet, offers a different approach: “Why have you torn your robes? Send the man to me and he will know there is a prophet in Israel.” (Messenger, [09:08])

2. Subverting Expectations – Elisha’s Humble Approach

[09:49 – 13:46]

• When Naaman arrives at Elisha’s humble abode, he expects a grand display, but Elisha does not even come to the door.
• Instead, Elisha sends a simple, seemingly humiliating instruction via his servant: “Go wash yourself seven times in the Jordan, and your flesh will be restored. You will be cleansed.” (Gehazi, [13:13])
• Naaman is furious at this perceived disrespect, feeling mocked rather than honored:

  “I thought surely, surely he would come out to meet me himself, call on the name of his God, wave his hand over my disease, perform some great act. You mean the Jordan? Are not the rivers of Damascus... better than all the waters of Israel?” (Naaman, [14:02])

3. The Crisis of Pride and the Call to Humility

[17:19 – 21:18]

• Elisha deliberately challenges Naaman’s pride, intending to teach that healing from God cannot be bought or earned, but must be received in humility.
• As Naaman storms off, his officers and a young servant urge him to reconsider:

  “My lord, if the Prophet had told you to do something great, would you not have done it?... Then why not this? Why not something simple?” (Servant, [20:27])

• Naaman, after struggling with his pride, chooses obedience over ego and heads to the Jordan River.

4. Obedience and Miraculous Healing

[21:40 – 23:11]

• Naaman bathes seven times in the Jordan and is miraculously healed.

  “Gone.” (Naaman, [22:46])
  “There is no God in all the world but Yahweh.” (Naaman, [23:11])

• He returns, transformed not only in body but also spirit.

5. Grace, Gifts, and the Rejection of Transactional Faith

[24:31 – 25:13]

• Naaman offers Elisha gifts in gratitude, but Elisha refuses, emphasizing that God’s grace is not for sale:

  “This is not my doing. This is the work of the Lord, and Yahweh does not sell his mercy.” (Elisha, [25:06])

6. Gehazi’s Temptation and Fall

[25:55 – 34:34]

• Gehazi, Elisha’s servant, is troubled by the refusal of Naaman’s wealth, believing it could fund God’s work.
• Acting independently, Gehazi lies to Naaman, claiming Elisha has changed his mind and asks for a gift after all. Naaman, relieved, gives generously.
• When Gehazi returns, Elisha confronts him:

  “Where have you been, Gehazi?” ([29:34])
  “Gehazi, was not my spirit with you when Naaman stepped down from his chariot to meet you?” (Elisha, [30:27])

• Elisha, grief-stricken, announces divine judgment:

  “The disease that left Naaman… It will cling to you, and to your children after you.” (Elisha, [32:17])

7. Consequences, Repentance, and Sorrow

[33:38 – 34:34]

• Gehazi confesses and accepts his fate, expressing deep regret and sorrow:

  “I failed you, Father. And I… I failed the Lord.” (Gehazi, [33:49])

• He walks away, stricken by leprosy and guilt, while Elisha weeps—the episode ending with profound grief and a warning about the subtlety of pride and greed.

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Notable Quotes & Memorable Moments

• Elisha on humility and God’s purpose:

  “Yahweh isn't just healing him. He's breaking him, teaching him something… If I had met him... he would have walked away thinking he'd earned his healing… But this way… he has to choose pride or humility.” (Elisha, [17:19–17:49])

• Naaman’s revelation after healing:

  “There is no God in all the world but Yahweh.” (Naaman, [23:11])
  “Now I know. There is no God in all the world, except in Israel.” (Naaman, [24:08])

• Elisha refusing gifts:

  “This is not my doing. This is the work of the Lord, and Yahweh does not sell his mercy.” (Elisha, [25:06])

• Gehazi’s sorrow:

  “I failed you. I failed you, Father. And I… I failed the Lord.” (Gehazi, [33:49])
  “I accept my fate. It is just.” (Gehazi, [34:17])

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Important Timestamps

• [05:11] – Naaman’s arrival and confrontation with King Joram
• [09:13] – Elisha is summoned; Naaman’s expectations are set
• [13:13] – Gehazi delivers Elisha’s instructions to Naaman
• [14:02] – Naaman’s angry reaction to being slighted
• [17:19] – Elisha’s explanation of God’s lesson to Gehazi
• [20:27] – Naaman’s servant persuades him to obey the prophet
• [21:40-22:46] – Naaman’s healing in the Jordan
• [23:11] – Naaman’s declaration of faith in Yahweh
• [25:06] – Elisha refuses gifts for the healing
• [29:34-32:19] – Gehazi is confronted, judged, and cursed with leprosy
• [33:49-34:17] – Gehazi confesses, accepts judgment, and departs

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Tone & Storytelling

The episode is woven with rich dialogue, deep emotion, and contemplative silences. The tone is reverent, dramatic, and introspective—focusing not just on miracles, but on the difficult inner work of faith, humility, and integrity. Characters are deeply human: Elisha is quietly wise but vulnerable, Naaman is proud yet ultimately transformed, and Gehazi is tragically relatable in his fall.

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Lessons & Relevance

• Miracles require humility – God’s gifts come on His terms, not ours, and often through gestures that humble us.
• Pride is an obstacle – Both Naaman’s and Gehazi’s downfalls are tied to pride: Naaman’s is healed through humility; Gehazi’s is undone by hidden ambition.
• Grace cannot be bought – Spiritual gifts and healing cannot be earned, manipulated, or commodified.
• True service is not transactional – Following God means serving without expectation of worldly reward.

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Summary

This episode of "The Chosen People" distills the story of Naaman's healing into a powerful meditation on pride, grace, and the dangers of self-righteousness. Through compelling characterization and emotional depth, the drama underscores how faith is often forged and tested in the tension between obedience and ego, and how true healing—physical and spiritual—demands humility and honesty before God.

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This summary is intended for listeners who want a deep, scene-by-scene understanding of the episode’s action, spiritual insight, and character development without needing to listen themselves.

Transcript

[Narrator]

Previously on the Chosen People. You doubt yourself, Master.

[Elisha]

Of course I doubt myself. I've watched you stand alone against kings and slaughter false prophets. I've even seen you call down fire and part rivers. And now you're leaving me to take your place. I am not you, Master. I have no fire, no boldness, no strength. The only thing I know how to do is pray.

[Narrator]

Then you know enough.

[Gehazi]

I told you not to give me false hope. I told you I didn't ask for a son. I didn't ask for any of it. I would rather have been barren forever than feel this.

[Naaman]

Why?

[Gehazi]

Why would God do this? Why would he give only to take?

[Elisha]

I don't know why God does what He I don't know why he allows grief to take root where joy once bloomed.

[Narrator]

He prayed. And this time it wasn't desperate. It was trust. A shudder. A gasp. Asa's body convulsed beneath him and suddenly he was coughing, breath spilling back into his lungs like water bursting through a cracked dam. His eyes shot open wide, confused. Alive. Elisha stood back, watching his heart pounding, his body light. This. This was Yahweh's work. This was grace.

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[Yael Eckstein]

Shalom, my friends. From here in the Holy Land of Israel, I'm Yael Eckstein with International Fellowship of Christians and Jews. And welcome to the Chosen People. Each day we'll hear a dramatic story inspired by the Bible. Stories filled with timeless lessons of faith, love, and the meaning of life. Through Israel's story, we will find this truth that we are all chosen for something great. So take a moment today to follow the podcast. If you're feeling extra grateful for these stories, we would love it if you left us a review. I read every single one of them and if you're interested in hearing more about the prophetic life saving work of the fellowship, you can visit ifcj.org let's begin.

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[Narrator]

The roads to Samaria had seen kings before. They had seen caravans, traders, even conquerors. But they had never seen Naoman. He rode at the head of his company, his chariot gleaming in the midday sun, the armor on his chest polished to an almost mirror like sheen. His face, sculpted by years of war, bore the look of a man who had never once been denied what he desired. Behind him, a column of horses and chariots stretched like a river of metal and silk. Foot soldiers, servants, banners flapping in the hot wind. Carried with them were the markers of his wealth and power. Silver, gold, fine garments. Naaman didn't come to beg. He came to purchase his healing at the gates of Samaria. The guards scrambled at the sight, their hands gripping their spears with the uneasy tension of men who were suddenly aware of their own insignificance. They didn't need an introduction. Every soldier in the region knew Naaman, Commander of Aram. His name was spoken in the kind of hushed, wary tones reserved for men whose victories were written in blood and fire. The palace doors groaned open before him, and soon he stood before Joram, King of Israel. If one could call what Joram did standing. The man was already wilting, his fingers twitching at the edges of his robe, his eyes darting between Naaman and the parchment in his hands.

[Naaman]

King Joram by King Naaman. Have a request from my lord, the King of Aram.

[Narrator]

Naaman handed him the scroll. Joram's throat bobbed as he read it aloud, his voice cracking.

[Gehazi]

Quit this letter. I am sending my servant Naaman to you that you may cure him of his leprosy.

[Narrator]

A thick, unbearable silence stretched tight over the room like the paws before a blade fell, then fabric tore. Joram ripped his own robes, his breath coming in sharp, erratic bursts. The young king flailed dramatically, as if crumbling under the weight of some unseen burden.

[Gehazi]

Am I God? Can I kill and bring back to life? What am I supposed to do? Lay hands on him and hope for the best? Oh God. Mother's gonna hit my head for this. She told me I was weak. She told me I'd ruin everything.

[Narrator]

His gaze darted between his advisors, searching desperately for someone, anyone, to tell him this wasn't happening. His fingers clawed at his hair, his breath shallow, his pupils dilated with fear.

[Gehazi]

This is a trap, isn't it? Erem is looking for an excuse to start a war. And they're going to say I refuse their great commander. They'll crush us.

[Narrator]

I I Naaman exhaled sharply, shaking his head. He had seen kings in battle, seen them fall on their own swords, seen the them scream for mercy, seen them stand unshaken as they were cut down. But this. This was new. A king who unraveled at the mere presence of a stronger man. Pathetic. But before he could turn and demand a real solution, a messenger burst into the chamber, eyes sharp, breath steady.

[Ryan Seacrest]

My lord, the prophet Elijah has sent word. He says, why have you torn your robes? Send the man to me and he will know there is a prophet in Israel.

[Narrator]

Naaman's eyes flickered, his jaw tightening. A prophet. This was what Israel offered him. No audience with the king, no summons to their temple, no display of divine power. Just a prophet.

[Naaman]

This prophet speaks of Joram tearing ropes, but he was not in the room to see it. Interesting. Fine. Let the prophet prove himself.

[Narrator]

A dust cloud announced Naaman's arrival long before his chariots rolled up to the modest home perched on the outskirts of the city. The contrast was almost comical. The finest military force in the region parked in front of a house barely large enough to fit a family of goats. Naaman stepped down from his chariot, his armor gleaming, his presence an unspoken demand. And then nothing. No welcome. No servants scurrying out to greet him. No sign that anyone inside had even noticed. A flicker of irritation crossed Naaman's face. Inside the house, Elisha was very much aware of who had arrived. He sat at a rough hewn wooden table, calmly stirring a bowl of lentils, his gaze fixed lazily on the ceiling as Gehazi stood near the doorway, watching the scene unfold.

[Gehazi]

Master, if there was ever a time to make an impression, this is it.

[Narrator]

Elisha didn't look up, just blew on his spoonful of stew.

[Elisha]

Oh, I'm making an impression, just not the kind he's expecting.

[Gehazi]

Elisha, listen to me. Your father would have handled this differently.

[Narrator]

That made Elisha pause. He set his spoon down, finally looking at Geheizai.

[Elisha]

Would he now?

[Gehazi]

Yes. He would have known how to deal with men like Naaman. He would have met him with honor, leveraged this moment, and made something out of it. But you.

[Narrator]

Gehazi gestured toward the door, exasperated.

[Gehazi]

You won't even meet the man.

[Narrator]

Elisha leaned back, arms folding across his chest. He let the words settle between them before tilting his head slightly, a smirk curling at the edges of his lips.

[Elisha]

Naamon is outside, standing like a peacock in full display, expecting a show. I'd hate to disappoint him.

[Narrator]

Gehazi sighed, rubbing his forehead.

[Gehazi]

This isn't just about him. This is about us. This man could. Could fund God's work. He could bring us gold, land, influence.

[Narrator]

Elisha's expression sharpened. The humor flickered away just for a moment.

[Elisha]

I did not leave my father's fields to build another empire.

[Narrator]

Gehazi opened his mouth, then shut it. The words were there, but the weight of them had nowhere to land. Elisha sighed, shaking his head.

[Elisha]

Besides, look at Naaman. Do you see how high he's standing? The man could trip over his own pride. Go send him my message.

[Narrator]

Gehazi huffed, frustrated, but said nothing. Elisha pushed his bowl aside and gestured toward the door. Gehazi hesitated. Then with a final glance at his master, he left. The door creaked open. Naoman straightened, but the face that appeared wasn't the one he was expecting. Not Elisha, just a servant. G' Hayzai stepped forward, keeping his voice level.

[Gehazi]

My master says to you, go wash yourself seven times in the Jordan, and your flesh will be restored. You will be cleansed.

[Narrator]

Silence. Naaman blinked. Wait. That was it. He stared at the servant, waiting for something more. A ceremony, a prayer, something. But Gehazi just stood there, waiting for him to leave. Naaman took a slow step forward, his voice dangerously quiet.

[Naaman]

Your master sent a servant to speak to the great Naaman.

[Narrator]

Geheizai said nothing. Naaman's breath hissed through his nose, nostrils flaring.

[Naaman]

I thought surely, surely he would come out to meet me himself, call on the name of his God, wave his hand over my disease, perform some great act. You mean the Jordan? Are not the rivers of Damascus, Abun, and Phapar better than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them and be clean?

[Narrator]

Naaman spat on the ground, his heart full of venom. And then he turned and stormed away. Geheizai stormed through the door, the dust from the road still clinging to his robe. His face was flushed, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides like a man trying and failing to hold his tongue. Elisha sat at the table, tracing slow circles in the last remnants of his lentil stew with a piece of bread, waiting. Then finally, never in my life have.

[Gehazi]

I been so humiliated. Master, do you have any idea how angry Naaman was? The man nearly exploded, face redder than Edomite sand and twitching for a sword, like he was debating whether he should murder me or the Jordan River.

[Elisha]

Ah, well, I suppose it could have got worse. He could have actually murdered us.

[Narrator]

Gehazi exhaled sharply, pacing now, rubbing a hand over his face.

[Gehazi]

Master, please be serious.

[Narrator]

This.

[Gehazi]

This was Naaman. The great Naaman. The man who could crash us if he wanted to. And you sent him away with a servant and a commander. Go bathe like a peasant.

[Elisha]

I don't know, Gehazi. It sounds like you're describing a man in need of a good scrubbing.

[Gehazi]

You could have at least met him. That's what your father would have done, given the respect of a proper greeting. This is not the way a prophet behaves. Why, your old master Elijah would have.

[Narrator]

He stopped himself, but the words were already out. Elisha stilled for a brief moment. His face betrayed something, a flicker of something deeper, something wounded, before he pushed it down, shoving it beneath the seal surface like a stone sinking into deep water. He set his bread down, exhaling softly.

[Elisha]

Trust me, you would have hated the way Elijah would have handled this much more than what I am doing.

[Narrator]

Gehazi crossed his arms but wouldn't meet his gaze. Elisha leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, his voice quieter now.

[Elisha]

Gehazi, you practically raised me. You were there when My father wasn't. I know what he would have done.

[Narrator]

But my question is he paused, locking eyes with the older man, what does.

[Elisha]

Yahweh want us to do right now?

[Narrator]

Gehazi's jaw tightened, but he said nothing. Elisha gestured toward the door, toward the road where Naaman had left, still seething.

[Elisha]

Look, Naaman has built his entire life on his own power, his own strength. And now that strength is rotting off his bones. Yahweh isn't just healing him. He's breaking him, teaching him something. If I had met him, if I had honored him the way that he wanted, he wouldn't have learned a thing. He would have walked away thinking he'd earned his healing, that he had bought Yahweh's favor with silver and gold.

[Narrator]

Elisha leaned back, shaking his head.

[Elisha]

But this way. This way he has to choose pride or humility. If he really wants healing, he'll take it the way Yahweh offers. If not, then, well.

[Narrator]

He shrugged. Gehazi ran a hand over his face, shaking his head.

[Gehazi]

I still don't like it.

[Elisha]

I know.

[Narrator]

The chariot wheels cut deep grooves into the dirt as Naaman and his men tore down the road, the weight of their failed mission pressing like an iron yoke on their shoulders. Naaman sat rigid, his knuckles white around the reins. His breath came shallow, nostrils flaring the same way it did right before he sent men to their deaths. His officers knew that look. They had seen it on battlefields, had seen it when villages were burned, had seen it before blood was spilled. It was the look of a man who was one order away from destruction.

[Naaman]

The arrogance.

[Narrator]

No one spoke the arrogance.

[Naaman]

Ay. Naaman came with silver, gold. I came with honor. And what did he give me to wash in the Jordan?

[Narrator]

The words tasted like poison in his mouth. One of his officers cleared his throat. Carefully. My lord.

[Naaman]

No, Enough.

[Narrator]

The force of it made his men flinch. Naoman's breath was ragged, his pride boiling over like water left too long on fire.

[Naaman]

Are not the rivers of Damascus better than all the waters of Israel? A banner for par? Clear mighty rivers? Not this. The swamp.

[Narrator]

He gestured toward the distant Jordan, refusing to even say its name again.

[Naaman]

That's not healing. That's mockery. Come, men. We ride home.

[Narrator]

Suddenly a voice, soft but steady, one of his younger servants, a boy barely of age, riding just behind him. My lord, if the Prophet had told.

[Gehazi]

You to do something great, would you.

[Narrator]

Not have done it? Naaman's grip tightened.

[Gehazi]

Would you not have climbed mountains, crossed.

[Narrator]

Deserts, slain enemies, paid any cost? Then why not this?

[Gehazi]

Why not something simple?

[Narrator]

Naaman's chest rose and fell, his breathing heavy. Then the words sank in. He had been ready to fight for his healing, to conquer it, to take it by force, by coin, by will. But could he accept it? Could he take it as it was offered, not through power, but through humility? A muscle in his jaw twitched. The road forked ahead. One way led back to Damascus, the other.

[Naaman]

Navi. So wise for one so young. Perhaps wiser than the great Naaman. Oh, all right. Onward to the Jordan.

[Narrator]

The water lapped lazily against the banks, murky and unimpressive. It was small, almost unworthy of the task set before it. Naoman stood at the edge, staring. His men watched in silence. No one moved. No one breathed. Naaman exhaled and stepped forward. The water was cold at first, a shock against his skin. He walked further. The filth of the river swirled around him. The taste of pride lingered, bitter on his tongue. And then he dipped beneath the surface. Once, twice. Again the water closed over him, the filth clinging to him like a second skin. 4, 5, 6. He lingered, his breath pressing tight in his chest. And on the seventh he rose. And the sickness was gone. The sores, the rot, the shame.

[Naaman]

Gone.

[Narrator]

Naaman staggered, his hands grasped at his arms, his chest, his face searching for what was missing. But only new flesh met his touch. Whole, clean. A warrior reborn. His men stared. Naaman fell to his knees, breathless.

[Naaman]

There is no God in all the world but Yahweh.

[Narrator]

Naaman's chariots kicked up dust as they thundered back toward Elisha's house. But this time they did not ride with arrogance. There was no expectation, no pride, only something new, something lighter, something Naaman had never felt before. Gratitude. He leapt from his chariot before it had fully stopped, his freshly healed skin catching the late afternoon sun. There was no rot, no sickness, just the feeling of wind against flesh that no longer burned with decay. He strode forward and dropped to his knees before Elisha, his voice trembling with something that felt dangerously close to awe.

[Naaman]

Now I know. There is no God in all the world, except in Israel.

[Narrator]

Elisha, who had been calmly feeding a goat a handful of dates, barely looked up. Oh, good.

[Elisha]

You figured it out.

[Narrator]

Naaman exhaled a soft laugh, shaking his head.

[Naaman]

Please take these gifts I brought. Silver, gold, fine garments. You've healed me, and I will pay you whatever you ask.

[Narrator]

Elisha finally turned, and his face changed. It was subtle. Something in the eyes, something in the way his body suddenly held a stillness that was not passive but deliberate. Elisha looked at Naaman as though he pitied him. No.

[Naaman]

No.

[Narrator]

Elisha dusted off his hands, standing.

[Elisha]

This is not my doing. This is the work of the Lord, and Yahweh does not sell his mercy.

[Narrator]

Naaman hesitated. He was not used to this. Everything in his life had been earned, one purchased with blood, sweat, and coin. But now a gift, unpaid for. Naaman exhaled, the weight of it settling into his bones. He turned back to his chariots, motioning for his men to bring forth a sack filled not with gold but earth. Simple dirt taken from Israel's land.

[Naaman]

Then let me take this soil that I may worship Yahweh alone, even in the land of Aram.

[Narrator]

Elisha nodded once, and Naaman bowed low before mounting his chariot. The wheels creaked as they turned toward home, but someone was watching them go, and his heart wasn't settled. Geheizai stood at the doorway, his stomach twisting in knots. He had been quiet through the entire exchange, his hands curling into fists, unclenching, curling again. He watched the gold, the silver, the riches ride away into the horizon. And it made no sense. None of it. They had nothing. They lived off scraps, off miracles and faith, while Elisha threw away the greatest provision they had ever been offered. His mind raced. Did Elisha not understand? Did he not see? This money could have fed the prophets. It could have rebuilt homes. It could have funded Yahweh's work. And Elisha let it go. Gehazi's breath came sharp through his nose. Then suddenly his feet were moving. Before he had even made the choice in his mind, his body had already decided. The hooves of Naaman's horses drummed against the road when he heard a voice calling out behind him.

[Gehazi]

My lord. Naaman. Naaman. Wait. Wait.

[Narrator]

Naaman turned, surprised. His men halted the chariots, their hands instinctively drifting to their weapons. Gehazi jogged forward, panting, his face set in a look of careful urgency.

[Gehazi]

My master's changed his mind.

[Narrator]

Naoman furrowed his brow.

[Naaman]

Oh.

[Narrator]

Gehazi placed his hands on his knees as if catching his breath. But really, he was stalling.

[Gehazi]

The two young prophets have just arrived. Poor boys, right? Fresh from the Elk country. My master wished he'd taken your offer, that we might clothe him and provide for their needs. Would you spare a talent of silver, perhaps two garments?

[Narrator]

A pause, then Naaman's face lit up. Of course this made sense. He had been right to offer a gift. He laughed, clapping Geheizai on the shoulder.

[Naaman]

Aha. So Elisha has come to his senses. Wonderful. Naaman is happy to oblige. Here, take 2.take 4.take as much as you need.

[Narrator]

He motioned to his men, who hastily dismounted, unstrapping the heavy sacks of silver, loading them into Gehazi's arms. It was easier than expected. Gehazi swallowed down the knot in his throat and nodded. Then he turned and walked away with hands full and a heart emptied. Gehazi thought he had hidden it well. The moment he returned, he had stashed the silver, the garments, the evidence. He had calmed his breath, had wiped the sweat from his brow. He entered the house as if nothing had happened, and Elisha was waiting, seated still. But the moment Gehazi stepped inside, the air felt different. And Elisha. Elisha was looking at him, through him.

[Elisha]

Where have you been, Ghazi?

[Narrator]

A moment, a heartbeat too long.

[Gehazi]

Nowhere really. Errands to run, things to manage and all that.

[Narrator]

Elisha flinched. Not in anger, not in disappointment, but in pain. Because this was Gehazi. His Gehazi. The man who had raised him when his own father had been too busy, the man who had carried him on his shoulders as a boy, who had taught him how to sharpen a blade, how to build a fire, how to read the weather in the sky. The man who had been there when Elijah was taken from him, the only constant, when everything else had crumbled into dust. And now Elisha took a slow breath, steadying himself.

[Elisha]

Gehazi, was not my spirit with you? When Naaman stepped down from his chariot to meet you?

[Narrator]

Gehazi's breath hitched. No, no, no, no. Elisha knew. The blood in Gehazi's veins went cold. Elisha stood, his face etched with sorrow.

[Elisha]

Gehazi, why?

[Narrator]

It wasn't condemnation. It was desperation. Despite knowing the truth, Elisha held out hope that perhaps there was some good explanation for his search. Servants, disobedience. There was not. He didn't know what to say. How could he explain it? That he had done it for the prophets, that he had done it for the people, that he had done it because someone had to be practical, Because Elisha never was. It all felt so foolish now. Elisha shook his head. His voice was breaking.

[Elisha]

I already lost, Elijah. I cannot lose you too.

[Narrator]

Gehazi felt something in his chest collapse. His knees shook, his hands trembled. He wanted to fall to the floor, to weep, to beg for mercy. But it was too late, because Elisha was already turning his head, like he was hearing something Gehazi could not. And suddenly his breath caught. His eyes filled. He shook his head, whispering, Kazi, the disease that left Naaman. His fingers clenched at his robe like if he gripped hard enough, he could take back the words.

[Elisha]

It will cling to you.

[Narrator]

His throat closed. His breath shook. And then softer, and to your children after you. A silence so deep it felt like the heavens themselves held their breath. Gehazi froze, then a shudder. His breath stuttered, his hands trembling. And then the burning began. The sickness crept up his skin, bubbling, boiling, his flesh turning white with the first signs of rot. Gehazi stumbled back, gasping, clutching his arms, his chest. Elisha watched, but he could not move. He could not breathe. His legs shook beneath him, his hands clutching at his chest like he had been stabbed. This was not anger. This was grief so deep it threatened to break him apart. And Gehazi. Gehazi fell to his knees, trembling. He did not weep, for he had been taught long ago to not show his sorrow, a lesson he refused to teach Elisha as a boy. He looked up, meeting his master's eyes.

[Gehazi]

I fell.

[Narrator]

His hands curled into fear fists, the leprosy spreading, crawling up his arms like judgment woven into his very flesh.

[Gehazi]

I failed you. I failed you, Father. And I. I failed. I failed the Lord.

[Narrator]

At that, the walls broke. A sob ripped from his throat. It was brief, like the flicker of a candle's flame the moment before it is blown out. Gehazi took a deep breath, collecting himself.

[Gehazi]

I accept my fate. It is just. If I were to travel on with you, I know I'd only hold you back from your mission. Oh Master, I hope you can forgive me.

[Narrator]

Tears slipped down his face as he looked up one final time. And then he turned and walked into the night, forever unclean, forever alone. Elisha fell to his knees and wept.

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[Ryan Seacrest]

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[Yael Eckstein]

If your faith has been kindled by this podcast and it has affected your life, we'd love it if you left a review. We read them and me personally, I cherish them. As you venture forth boldly and faithfully, I leave you with the Biblical Blessing from Numbers 6. May the Lord bless you and keep you. May the Lord make His face shine upon you. May he be gracious to you. May the Lord turn His face towards you and give you peace.

[Gehazi]

Amen.

[Narrator]

You can listen to the Chosen People with Y Eckstein ad free by downloading and subscribing to ThePray.com app today. This prey.com production is only made possible by our dedicated team of creative talents. Steve Catina, Max Bard, Zach Schellewager and Ben Gammon are the executive producers of the Chosen People with Yael Eckstein. Edited by Alberto Avila Narrated by Paul Coltofianu. Characters are voiced by Jonathan Cotton, Aaron Salvato, Sarah Seltz, Mike Reagan, Steven Ringwald, Sylvia zaradoc, Thomas Copeland Jr. Rosanna Pilcher and Mitch Lashinsky and the opening prayer is voiced by John Moore. Music by Andrew Morgan Smith. Written by Aaron Salvato, Bree Rosalie and Chris Baig. Special thanks to Bishop Paul Lanier, Robin Van Etten, Caleb Burrows, Jocelyn Fuller, Rabbi Edward Abramson and the team at International Fellowship of Christians and Jews. You can hear more Pray.com productions on the Pray.com app, available on the Apple App Store and Google Play Store. If you enjoyed Chosen People with Yael Eckstein. Please rate and leave a review.

[Ryan Seacrest]

Hey, it's Ryan Seacrest for Albertsons and Safeway. It is hot out there this summer, right? But don't sweat it. We got tons of ways to save on your family's favorite personal care items to keep yourself feeling cool and smelling good. Now through September 9th, earn four times points when you shop for items from your favorite brands like Right Guard, Raw Sugar, Dove Soft Soap and Olay. Then use your points for discounts on groceries or gas on future purchases. Offer ends September 9th. Restrictions apply. Offers may vary. Visit albertsons or safeway.com for more details.

[Sponsor/Ad Voice]

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[Narrator]

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[Ryan Seacrest]

You heard it before many times. Water is life. But do you know that almost half of the homes on the Navajo reservation do not have clean running water? With your support, St. Bonaventure Indian Mission and School is ready to give water to Navajo families. So we invite you to help provide this precious gift of life to those in need. Contrary to many average Americans, Navajo families survive on just 10 gallons of water per day. You can help support St. Bonaventure's water delivery program by going to stbonaventuremission.org Untold.

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Stories Life with a Severe Autoimmune Condition, a production from Ruby Studio in partnership with Argenics, is back with Season four. Join me, Martine Hackett, as we explore the realities of life with myasthenia gravis or mg, and chronic inflammatory demyelinating polyneuropathy, or cidp. We'll uncover the stories of resilience and self advocacy in the face of uncertainty. From overcoming misdiagnosis to finding empowerment in small victories, these are moments that change us. Here's a glimpse of what's in store. Whenever I go to my specialist, he mentions the R word remission. Is it possible? Like, is it over? But also knowing it's never really over, but just being able to say, hey, there's light at the end of day, the tunnel. Stay the course. Don't give up on yourself. Every single person living with the autoimmune illness has a life worth living, and it's up to you to define that, to capture that, and to go guns blazing. Follow and listen to Untold Stories on the iHeartRadio app or wherever you get your podcasts. This is an iHeart podcast.