GRATITUDE
7 25 10
LUKE 17:11-19
ANTHONY ACHESON, M.DIV
There is a preacher I heard about who was known for long-ish sermons. One Sunday he was preaching one of his longer sermons. 15, 20 minutes went by and then 30, and then 40 minutes, with no sign of winding down. When he reached the 45 minute mark, he noticed one of his top deacons get up and leave. This bothered the minister, but not enough to bring on the magic words, “And so, in conclusion.” So on and on he went, and after a while the minister saw that the member of the deacons actually came back into the church and returned to his seat. After the service was FINALLY over, the now curious minister asked the man why he left. And the guy said, “I went to get a hair cut.” “A hair cut?” said the minister. Couldn’t you have gotten your hair cut before you came to church?” To which the man replied, “Reverend, before I came to church, I didn’t need a hair cut.”
I share that with you this morning because today’s reading from Luke is one of those passages that is so full of rich imagery and multiple themes, that a preacher could easily get carried away. But hopefully that won’t be the case today.
This parable of the ten lepers is one that wants to have a conversation with us about gratitude and the role of gratitude in the spiritual life. For any of us who have had children, we all know that one of our early tasks as parents is to teach kids to learn to express thanks. When someone gives gifts to our children we are all well primed to remind them: “What do you say?” And from an early age they are prompted to reply, “Thank you.” And as adults, not only do we teach our kids to give thanks, we also appreciate BEING thanked for things we give or do.
The central characters in today’s story were ordinary human beings who breathed and ate, had hopes and dreams, feelings and fears just like us. But they had all been struck with the tragedy of leprosy which was one of the most dreaded of ancient diseases, leaving its victim maimed and disfigured. There was no known cure. And since leprosy was then falsely thought to be contagious, people who were lepers were, as we might say today, dead men walking when it came to maintain their hopes for normal family life, a useful occupation, or plans for the future.
But despite their seeming hopelessness, these lepers nonetheless approached Jesus, if at a far distance. Jewish law categorized lepers as “ritually unclean.” They were not allowed to come within fifty yards of a person who was “clean.” These people had to live in a hell of social loneliness. That in itself can do more to drain a person’s energy for living than the most horrible of diseases.
But even in the midst of this dire status these lepers had at least something to be thankful for. In their common misery they had found each other and joined together. It is highly significant that one of these ten lepers was a Samaritan. That’s one of the most important sub-themes of this story. A good Jew in that day and time would have no dealings at all with a Samaritan. They looked upon Samaritans as low-lifes or half-breeds. Yet, in the common misery that they shared together, in the common misery of their leprosy these ten seem to have been empowered to forget their social separation as Jew and Samaritan. Beyond those differences, they appear ho have bonded into a new community of their own creation in which the Jews and Samaritans were no longer in opposing groups but were now members of the same group. Under the harsh conditions of their suffering and misfortune had come into contact with their common humanness. They had come to see that the vulnerability that they had in common was much more important than the religious or group distinctions under which they had once seemed very different. There is great power in that kind of consciousness of common vulnerability. Even for lepers. Especially for lepers.
But then something happened. At some point, some instant–quite by surprise—those ten outcast lepers were changed. Every diseased cell in their bodies was changed. Every cell suddenly sprang into full health signaled by an unseen force. It was a force of events which began in the twinkle of an eye, in a flash of excitement as one of the ten noticed his body becoming healthy, and then another, and then a third.
Can you picture them bounding down the road to the priest, now running, now leaping, now dancing, wondering how the priest would react, anticipating the glee, the excitement of their families as they would return home–healthy, alive, with a legal, official health certificate proclaiming to all what had happened. All ten men caught up in the joy, the excitement of the moment.
But then just one of them does something that the other 9 do not. He stops, he smiles, he turns, now walking, now running, back to the Master, back to this healer, back to this one who touched him with the mysterious force. He comes back, “shouting, laughing, proclaiming glory to God with a joyful and thankful heart.” He runs back and offers up the thanks of that bountiful heart to the great man for his great act. All ten of these men no doubt were appreciative. I have no doubt that all ten of them were thankful in the attitude of their hearts. But only one of them came and engaged in the proactive and intentional act of love that comes through saying, “Thank you; thank you so very much,” to a person who has given so very much in this act of love, of bestowing healing.
“Were not ten cleansed?” Jesus says. “Where are the nine?” We should take note of the fact that he does not take the healings back for those nine. Neither does he imply that the other nine did not FEEL grateful. The other nine may indeed have had that feeling. But the real winner in this story is the man who not only was healed in the flesh, and who not only FELT happy in his heart, but who was also expanded in his heart and spirit enough to offer his own gift back in return, namely the gift of letting the giver know how much his gift truly meant.
Jesus loved all ten of the lepers. He loved all ten of them before he healed them, and he loved all ten after he healed them. But in that moment, at least, although ten of them may have had their bodies healed, only one of the ten had been able to take the next step and not only receive the love of Christ, but return the gift of love back to Christ, in the form of expressing his own love and gratitude.
There is an ancient story that has several different versions to it, but one of the most famous is called The Lion and the Mouse. This story tells us that once upon a time, as a lion lay sleeping in his den, a naughty little mouse ran up his tail, and onto his back and up his mane and danced and jumped on his head. But that woke the lion up. The lion grabbed the mouse and, holding him in his large claws, roared in anger. ‘How dare you wake me up! Don’t you know that I am King of the Beasts? Anyone who disturbs my rest deserves to die! I shall kill you and eat you!’
The terrified mouse, shaking and trembling, begged the lion to let him go. ‘Please don’t eat me Your Majesty! I did not mean to wake you, it was a mistake. I was only playing. Please let me go. And if you do, I promise I will be your friend forever. Who knows, maybe one day I could save your life?’
The lion looked at the tiny mouse and laughed. ‘You save my life? What an absurd idea!’ he said scornfully. ‘But you have made me laugh, and put me into a good mood again, so I shall let you go.’ And the lion opened his claws and let the mouse go free. ‘Oh thank you, your majesty,’ squeaked the mouse, and scurried away as fast as he could.
Within a few short days, however, the lion’s fortunes had changed, and he himself had become ensnared in the nets of a hunter, just as the mouse had been ensnared in the lion’s clutch just recently. Struggle as he might, he couldn’t break free, and as he struggled, he became even more entangled in the net of ropes. He let out a roar of anger that shook the forest. Every animal heard it, including the tiny mouse.
‘My friend the lion is in trouble,’ cried the mouse. He ran as fast as he could in the direction of the lion’s roar, and soon found the lion trapped in the hunter’s snare. ‘Hold still, Your Majesty,’ squeaked the mouse. ‘I’ll have you out of there in a jiffy!’ And without further delay, the mouse began nibbling through the ropes with his sharp little teeth. Very soon the lion was free. The lion was profusely grateful. He said to the mouse over and over, ‘Little mouse, my thanks are with you. My thanks are with you forever. I did not believe that you could be of use to me, little mouse, but today you saved my life,’ said the lion humbly.
‘It was my turn to help you, Sire,’ answered the mouse. For even the weak and small may be of help to those much mightier than themselves. For little friends may prove great friends. And no act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted.”
In Luke’s story of the ten lepers, all ten, no doubt were happy to receive the kindness of Christ. But only one appears to have known the importance of expressing that gratitude. That call to gratitude is not something that comes naturally to us. As children we have to be taught to do it. And thankfulness is often not easy in times such as ours amid our fears that things might spiral out of control in an unsettled world around us. But this call to gratefulness is a call that is based on an ultimately spiritual affirmation that behind and within all the events of our lives, and all the doings of history, in the end, there is a Divine presence and purpose and process that lie at the center, even though, and even when, it is far from apparent.
The first book in English ever written by a woman was penned by the Christian nun and scholastic, Julian of Norwich. In this book she wrote, “Let us pray all together with God’s working; let us be people who are thanking, trusting, rejoicing, for thus will our good lord be prayed to, by the understanding that I took of God’s meaning. In my praying I was answered in spiritual understanding, “Do you want to know your lord’s meaning in this thing? Know it well, love was his meaning. Who reveals it to you? Love does. What did he reveal to you? He revealed Love. Why does he reveal it to you? Because of love. Remain in this, and you shall know more of the same. And you shall never know different in this, without end.’ Thus was I taught, says Julian, that love is our lord’s meaning.”
And thus are we taught today in this story of these ten lepers of one of the many faces of love, the giving of thanks, the expression of gratitude as the recognition of un underlying Divine goodness in all that we have and in all that happens. May God give us the grace and wisdom during the days of this week to see the God’s heavenly hand in all we have and in all our blessings, and indeed in all the events of our lives. This we affirm and offer, with thanks, to the living, ever-present God. Amen.
