Daring Greatly: The Courage of a Child

A READING FROM THE SECOND BOOK OF KINGS

Naaman, commander of the army of the king of Aram, was a great man and in high favour with his master, because by him the Lord had given victory to Aram. The man, though a mighty warrior, suffered from leprosy. Now the Arameans on one of their raids had taken a young girl captive from the land of Israel, and she served Naaman's wife. She said to her mistress, "If only my lord were with the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy." So Naaman went in and told his lord just what the girl from the land of Israel had said. And the king of Aram said, "Go then, and I will send along a letter to the king of Israel." He went, taking with him ten talents of silver, six thousand shekels of gold, and ten sets of garments. He brought the letter to the king of Israel, which read, "When this letter reaches you, know that I have sent to you my servant Naaman, that you may cure him of his leprosy." When the king of Israel read the letter, he tore his clothes and said, "Am I God, to give death or life, that this man sends word to me to cure a man of his leprosy? Just look and see how he is trying to pick a quarrel with me." But when Elisha the man of God heard that the king of Israel had torn his clothes, he sent a message to the king, "Why have you torn your clothes? Let him come to me, that he may learn that there is a prophet in Israel." So Naaman came with his horses and chariots, and halted at the entrance of Elisha's house. Elisha sent a messenger to him, saying, "Go, wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored and you shall be clean." But Naaman became angry and went away, saying, "I thought that for me he would surely come out, and stand and call on the name of the Lord his God, and would wave his hand over the spot, and cure the leprosy! Are not Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them, and be clean?" He turned and went away in a rage. But his servants approached and said to him, "Father, if the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it? How much more, when all he said to you was, 'Wash, and be clean'?" So he went down and immersed himself seven times in the Jordan, according to the word of the man of God; his flesh was restored like the flesh of a young boy, and he was clean.

2 KINGS 5:1-14

Sermon: The Rev. Dr. Maryann Amor

“Daring Greatly is not about winning or losing. In a world where ‘never enough’ dominates and fear has become second nature, vulnerability is subversive. Uncomfortable. Even dangerous. But nothing is as hurtful as standing on the outside looking in, wondering what life could be like if we had the courage to step into the arena.”These words from Brené Brown’s “Daring Greatly” remind us that while vulnerability is often seen as weakness, it actually comes from a Latin term meaning “capable of being wounded.”

To be vulnerable is to live in a way that opens us to wounding, to criticism, judgement, even harm. But it is also the only way to live courageously in this world. When we dare to act despite the risk, our lives become richer, fuller, and more impactful.This idea of vulnerability opens a new way of seeing our first reading—the story of Naaman the leper. At first glance, this tale seems focused on powerful figures: an army commander, kings, a mighty prophet. But if we only pay attention to the strong, we miss the meaning of our passage for us, a meaning tied into who we are and what God calls us to be.So, instead of looking at the powerful we need to turn to someone easily overlooked: the young girl who appears at the beginning of the story. She only speaks one sentence, but she is the perfect illustration of what it means to “dare greatly.”

The passage begins with Naaman, commander of the king of Aram’s army. He is a foreigner, a man of great power, and yet the narrator tells us the LORD—Israel’s God—has helped him succeed. But there’s a problem: Naaman has leprosy. Despite all his accomplishments, he is marked by this illness, which becomes the story’s central tension: how will Naaman be healed?Surprisingly, the answer does not come from a prophet or king—but from a little girl. She has been taken captive from Israel and now serves Naaman’s wife. She is young, unnamed, enslaved, and far from home. Yet she is the first person to speak in the story, saying, “If only my lord were with the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy.” This single sentence sets the entire story in motion. Naaman hears it, tells the king, and eventually travels to Israel where he encounters Elisha and is healed.After her one line, the girl disappears. She is forgotten, overshadowed by the powerful men around her. But her action is remarkable. Living as a servant in a foreign land, she could have remained silent to protect herself. That would have been the safer choice. If I were in her place, I would have kept my head down, stayed quiet, and just tried to survive.But she doesn’t do this. She speaks. And in doing so, she shows compassion and faith—faith in the power of the prophet, and faith that healing is possible. As Brené Brown might say, she dares greatly. She risks speaking out when silence would have been easier. Her words—spoken with vulnerability—become the catalyst for healing, both physical and spiritual. Without her, there would be no story. This little girl matters—not just within the world of Scripture, but in our world too.

Maybe you know what it is like to feel small. Maybe you know what it feels like to want to keep your head down. Maybe there’s a place in your life where you’ve thought, Who am I to speak? Who am I to act? But what if, like the little girl, we dared greatly?

Daring greatly doesn’t have to mean grand gestures. It might look like standing up for yourself in a conversation where you usually stay silent. It could be being honest with someone about how you’re really doing, even if it feels uncomfortable. It might mean trying something new, ending something that’s not healthy, or simply allowing yourself to be seen—as you truly are.

It could be something spiritual like sharing a word of faith with a friend who’s struggling, even if you’re not sure how it will be received. Reaching out to someone you’ve been avoiding. Choosing kindness when it feels easier to turn away. Naming your fears aloud. Praying honestly.

I struggle with all of this too. It’s so much easier to stay quiet, to blend in. Easier to let others talk and just nod along. But the story of this little girl reminds me, reminds all of us, that even the smallest act of faith, the smallest step of courage, can make an enormous difference.

And here’s what I find so moving: the girl doesn’t get a reward in the story. probably never even hears that Naaman was healed. She just did what she could—spoke her truth, acted with faith—and that was enough. Maybe that’s all we’re called to do too. To be faithful in the moment we’re given. To dare greatly in the places where we feel small.

Naaman is healed. But more than that, he’s transformed. He returns to Elisha and says, “Now I know that there is no God in all the earth except in Israel.” His faith is born through the courage of a child. So, what healing could come into your life—or into someone else’s life—if you dared greatly? What transformation might begin because of one honest word, one quiet act of compassion, one moment of courage? The story of Naaman is often remembered for its powerful men. But today, let us remember the girl. She dared greatly. And because she did, a life was changed. What might happen if we did the same?

Amen.