Preaching Text: Luke 17:11-19
This story has, for years, been the assigned story for
Thanksgiving worship. We know it’s about thanksgiving—one of the healed lepers
comes back to say THANKS to Jesus for healing him. Only one of them, which Jesus points out,
sure he had healed ten. One out of ten,
a tithing of lepers, remembers to say THANKS.
Sometimes what we notice about the story is that the one who
comes back is a Samaritan. We don’t know
who else was in the group, but since Luke—and Jesus—make such a big deal of the
grateful one being a Samaritan, we can guess that most, if not all, of the
others are Jewish. The Jewish Jesus has, from a great distance and with only a
word, not even a specific word, instantaneously cleansed ten adults from a
horrible disease that has changed their lives for who knows how long. The Jews
know the significance of this infection—no temple worship, no family dinners,
no business with others in the community.
They also know when they are healed, “clean”, they must show the priest
who will validate their re-entry into the community. What they don’t know,
apparently, is to be grateful. Is it just a matter of good manners? What would we do—we’re at least as “good” and
“right” as the despised Samaritan, right?
But what I’m really noticing in this reading, this time, of
this story, is a different detail. All
ten were made clean. All ten were
instructed to show themselves to the priest to be able to re-enter life as they
knew it. One turns to say thank you—and that is what sets him apart from the
others. He is a Samaritan, which is remarkable insomuch as we don’t expect him
to be paying much attention to or caring about what Jesus is doing. But he
doesn’t turn around because he’s a
Samaritan, I don’t think. I don’t know why he turns around, why he praises God,
why he remembers to say “thank you”, but he does, and that is what sets
him apart. All ten know about Jesus—they call him “Jesus, Master”. They have great expectations for what he can
do for them—maybe heal them, maybe just a word of peace, a blessing,
acknowledgement that they are still human underneath their disease. It’s likely that the request “Have mercy on
us” is a plea for alms—they are begging for some cash or food. Jesus gives them
much more than anticipated—their lives are completely changed. And one
turns around. One seems to “get” the significance of this changed life. One
recognizes the work of God and reorients himself accordingly. And Jesus
declares, “Your faith has made you well.”
Jesus made all ten well, healing them; but the connection this one
makes, face to face with Jesus, this faith in a rather unexpected place, has
changed everything.
Here the story ends, rather abruptly, and we do not hear
about this Samaritan ex-leper ever again. So we don’t know how his life is changed; we don’t know what he does or who he
becomes or if he remains with Jesus. Those details would be nice, but their
absence leaves a space—a space for us to fit into this story. I’m not aware
that any of us has leprosy, but we do have “things” in life that keep us from
being fully the people God has made us to be; we do have “things” that keep us
separate from full participation in our relationships and our communities. Do
we cry out, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us?” What do we think will happen
when we do? If we are instructed to “go do something” or “go be something”, how
do we respond?
I really think most people want miracles, in their own lives
and in the world. We don’t always know what we’re looking for so we miss them
sometimes. We want them to be big and grand and fix problems like war and
climate change and pollution. God does intervene in our lives; God is present,
working in this world—that’s a very basic definition of a miracle, I’d say. So
when we are going along in life and have an encounter with the Divine; when we
see Jesus across the way and shout out; when a miracle does happen, what then?
Are we “so faithful” that we take for granted that we deserve it, and just keep
on going, like 90% of people in this story do? Or do we recognize the miracle
as the presence of God in our midst, the mystery that God enters in to our time
and place, that God knows about our little lives here in south central Texas?
Do we turn to look at God, to say THANKS, and let God turn us on this way to
new life?
Ten were healed; ten had their lives completely changed. But
one turned around. And in turning, that one saw Jesus, knew the source of the
healing. In a turn of gratitude, he met God. As we are running through this
life, with all its ups and downs, joys and heartaches, let’s remember to turn
around once in awhile, to turn our lives toward God. Amen.
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