Supporting Characters: God’s Calling for the Quiet Ones

As a pastor, reading the Bible is part of my job—technically. But I can’t afford to think of it like that. I don’t clock in, skim a few chapters, and call it a workday. Reading Scripture isn’t about punching a timecard; it’s about listening to what God is saying. I need to read it like I’m listening—not just for myself, but for the people I serve.

Reading the Bible Like a Story

That said, one helpful thing I’ve learned over the years is to read biblical stories like, well, stories. Not fiction, of course, but real events creatively told carefully. I like to take the time to notice the main characters, how the plot develops, and how the tension increases before a resolution. Focusing on these things has helped me understand God’s Word more deeply.

That’s the approach I took when I was reading 2 Kings chapter 5. It’s one of those passages you can treat like a whole story all by itself. It’s twenty-seven verses long, and it has everything a good story needs—an introduction that hooks you, a middle full of tension and movement, and an unexpected ending that leaves you thinking. The story contains some really rich and complex characters.

One of the first people we meet is a man named Naaman. He’s introduced like a hero—he’s a mighty warrior, a man with victories under his belt, highly respected by his king. If this were a modern movie, you’d expect the camera to zoom in on him as the main character. But Naaman isn’t the hero of this story. Then there’s the king of Israel, a man you’d assume would be full of faith since he leads God’s people—but when he enters the scene, he comes off more worried about appearances and politics than recognizing when God is at work. And there’s Elisha, the prophet, a steady contrast to all that. By the time we reach this chapter in the Bible, we’ve seen enough of Elisha to know he doesn’t get rattled easily. He shows up in this story calm and confident in God’s power.

And then, at the tail end of the chapter, we meet Gehazi. He’s Elisha’s servant, and in many ways, he’s the most tragic figure of them all. His choices lead him to play the fool in this account—not the kind that brings comic relief, but the kind that shows us what happens when pride and greed take root. His part of the story is a warning all by itself.

The Story in 2 Kings 5

Now, in case you’re not familiar with what exactly happens in this story, let me give you a quick rundown.

It all starts with a young servant girl, taken from Israel, now working in the home of a powerful Syrian commander named Naaman. She tells her mistress that there’s a prophet in Israel who could heal Naaman’s leprosy. Word gets passed up the chain—first to Naaman, then to his king—and before long, Naaman is on his way to Israel, carrying a letter with the king’s signature and a whole lot of expensive gifts, asking for the king of Israel to cure Naaman’s cruel disease.

When the king of Israel gets the letter, he panics. He thinks it’s a political trap. Instead of seeing an opportunity for God to move, he sees a potential international crisis and tears his clothes in distress. That’s when Elisha steps in. He hears about the situation and calmly says, “Send him to me.”

So Naaman shows up at Elisha’s house with his whole entourage, but Elisha doesn’t even come to the door. Instead, he sends word: wash in the Jordan River seven times and you’ll be clean. Naaman is offended. It’s too simple. Too muddy. Too unimpressive. But his servants talk him down and say, “Look, if he’d told you to do something dramatic, you’d have done it without question. Why not try this?”

Naaman listens. He washes. And just like that, he’s healed—skin looking brand new, like that of a child. He comes back to offer Elisha a gift, but Elisha refuses. He’s not in it for profit. Naaman heads home with a new faith, but the story isn’t over. Gehazi, Elisha’s servant, sees an opportunity. He runs after Naaman, lies about needing help for some “visiting prophets,” and walks away with silver and clothing. But the truth comes out, and Gehazi pays a steep price. The leprosy that left Naaman ends up resting on him.

Literary Devices?

Quite the story, isn’t it? As I was reading this chapter and making my “story” observations, something clicked. I realized there were specific literary devices quietly moving the story forward—almost like stagehands in a play. They’re not the stars of the show, but without them, the story couldn’t happen. And in 2 Kings chapter 5, those devices come in the form of servants.

You see them all through the chapter. There’s the servant girl in Naaman’s household who speaks a single sentence—but it’s the spark that sets everything in motion. There are Naaman’s servants, who reason with him when his pride nearly talks him out of his healing. And there’s the unnamed, implied servant in the king’s court, who passes word to Elisha after the king reacts in fear. None of these servants is fleshed out. We don’t know their names, their motives, or their history. But their presence is felt in the way they shift the direction of the narrative. 

Then there’s Gehazi. He’s not a device. He’s a character—a full, complicated, tragic character. We know his name. We hear his thoughts. We watch his choices unfold in real time. And unlike the other servants who help move the story along, Gehazi brings it to a heavy, painful stop. The other servants are quiet voices behind the scenes. Gehazi takes center stage in the closing scene and leaves us with a warning instead of a celebration.

There’s also something about the way these unnamed servants are written that reflects humility. The girl didn’t have freedom or rank. Naaman’s men didn’t have a position of command. The court messenger goes unnamed. But they were all in the right place, at the right time, with just the right word. They become models of faithful servanthood.

God’s Calling for the Quiet Ones

So here’s where this hits home: maybe you feel like your life doesn’t have much influence. You’re not a prophet. You’re not a king. You don’t have a platform or an audience. But those servants remind us that influence doesn’t always come through volume. Sometimes it comes through timing, through faithfulness, through quiet courage.

That young girl gave her mistress a word of hope that her husband desperately needed. Naaman’s men helped him push past pride so he could finally face the thing he was hiding under all that armor. And even Elisha—steady as he was—needed someone to bring him the news that enabled him to do what he was called to do in that moment.

So here’s the question: what opportunity has God placed in front of you today? Who in your life needs a nudge in the right direction? Who needs a word of hope, a reminder that healing is still possible, or a gentle push to finally deal with what they’ve been trying to cover up?

You don’t have to be famous to be faithful. Sometimes, the most powerful people in the story are the ones who never get named.