Proper 23C; Luke 17:11-19; St. Paul’s Smithfield, NC
10/9/2016
Jim Melnyk: “What’s the Magic Word?”
When I was growing up and I
asked an adult for something, it was common for them to say, “What’s the magic
word?” Well, the magic word was
“please.” But after saying that magic
word, and having been given what was asked for, the grownups expected to hear
two more magic words. They were – and I
hope are still today – “thank you.”
Perhaps those of you who are
adults can remember being reminded – sometimes over and over again – about
these magic words. Perhaps you still
need reminding once in a while – as I do.
And hopefully those of you who are younger – children and youth – are
finding some importance for such words as please and thank you – especially in
a world that seems to be becoming more and more uncivil and uncaring.
Saying “Thank you” is simply
a way of expressing gratitude – that is, appreciation, recognition, or acknowledgement
on our part. There is something quite
simple, yet very powerful, about saying thank you – a reality that’s easy to
forget.
In today’s gospel lesson
Jesus is making his way toward Jerusalem.
He’s taking the shorter, less conventional route, through Samaria. We get caught up in the healing aspects of
this story, but that’s not the real focus.
Our story, which takes place somewhere near the border with Galilee, is
an amazing tale of thankfulness and grace.
Thankfulness which is heightened by the realization that the
thanksgiving expressed comes from the one person in the story from whom such thanks
would most likely not be expected. But
then again, we already know that Jesus is willing to shake up his listeners –
and his critics – whenever he gets a chance.
The story we are told by Luke
centers around ten lepers Jesus encounters in a village.
Now, when I say Jesus
encounters them, realize that the lepers don’t come rushing over to interact
with Jesus and his followers, nor does Jesus seem to rush over to their side. They encounter Jesus from a distance –
realizing that they are considered to be ritually unclean as well as possibly physically
contagious. The actions by the lepers in
Luke’s story are most likely tied to the admonition in Leviticus, which
required lepers to band together and warn people of their approach, crying out
to anyone near, “Unclean! Unclean!” (Leviticus 13:45-46)
All ten who ask for mercy are
outcasts, but one among them has two strikes against him – he’s a Samaritan. He’s a foreigner, who is considered to be a
heretic – one whose beliefs don’t jive with the faith as expressed in first
century Judaism. That’s strike one. In
fact, as we all know, he is not only a heretic, but his people are considered
to be antagonistic enemies of Israel. Strike two. Yet still, he cries out with the others for
mercy.
When Jesus sees the lepers he
doesn’t comment on their faith, he doesn’t quiz them regarding their beliefs –
he doesn’t even ask about their hometown (even though one of them is a
Samaritan). In fact the only thing he
says to them is, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” He doesn’t speak a word of healing. Just, “Go.”
Now, the only reason they would go and show themselves to the priests
would be to certify their healing – to certify their wholeness – for only the
priests have the authority to declare the lepers clean. Yet they turn and head out just on the word of
Jesus. The Gospel says, “And as they went, they were made clean.” Their wholeness is restored only after they
obey Jesus and head for Temple – or in the Samaritan’s case, Mt. Gerizim –
because a Samaritan would not go to the Temple in Jerusalem.
Now I’m thinking there must
have been great joy in the hearts of all ten lepers. No longer scarred and in pain – now free to
be welcomed among their families and friends once again – well, it had to be
overwhelming for them. But in the midst
of their great joy – and surely in the midst of deeply felt gratitude by all
ten – only one turns back to openly express thanksgiving to Jesus. Once again we find it is the least likely of
the ten – it is the double outcast – it’s the Samaritan – who returns to Jesus.
Rather than get caught up by
the nine who do not return – the nine who follow the command of Jesus quite
explicitly – perhaps Luke wants us to be surprised by the Samaritan. Told to show himself to the priests, the
Samaritan throws himself at the feet of the One who will come to be called “our
great high priest.” And while Jesus
wonders what happened to the other nine – although Jesus should know they’re just
doing what he commanded – he comments on the faith of the Samaritan. “Your faith has made you well.”
But in reality, the Samaritan
is not only made well – he is restored to wholeness of relationship with God
and with the community. His gratitude becomes
a vehicle for God’s grace.
“Gratitude is heaven itself,”
claimed William Blake, and the great mystic-poet may have been right. On the other hand, as some have said, lack of
gratitude – or a sense of privilege on the part of so many – may just be the
blight on the modern world today (reference lost). “All at once and right away”
could very well be the “national anthem” of all too many who live in what we
tellingly call the First World.
“The return of the leper
shows thank-full-ness is an integral
part of faith-full-ness. And gratitude, or thank-full-ness, becomes that vehicle for discovering and living
the grace of God.” It has been said that
“we sanctify whatever it is we are grateful for.” And that, to me, seems so true. The greater our ability to give thanks, the
more open we become to God’s presence around us. “Gratitude in its deepest sense means to live
life as a gift to be received gratefully.
But gratitude as the gospel speaks about it embraces all of life: the
good and the bad, the joyful and the painful, the holy and the not so holy” (Henri
Nouwen, “All is Grace”, Weavings 7,
1992). And that’s where we find the
challenge – when life isn’t going smoothly, it’s not easy to be grateful for
anything.
I’m pretty sure none of the
ten lepers ever thought of giving thanks to God for their illness – nor would I
ever suggest they should have done so.
Yet somehow the ten who are sick recognize the power of God in Jesus,
and find the voice necessary in his presence to claim their need. And in one particular case – in the life of
the Samaritan of all people (what a scandalous teaching moment for Jesus) – in
one particular case this one person goes beyond the necessary to show his
gratitude for the healing presence of God in Christ. No one would expect the people of Haiti,
Cuba, or our southeast to be thankful for Matthew’s devastation, and yet in the
midst of that devastation we are seeing the face of God not just in the victims
of this powerful storm, but in the ways so many have already turned their
hearts and their resources to help – everyone from the first responders who
risk their lives, to those taking in friends and strangers who are stranded, to
those who will be wielding chainsaws later today – to those who will write
checks to groups like Episcopal Relief and Development – groups that help with
disaster recovery.
We’ve seen this reality acted
out among us time after time, haven’t we?
People of faith come together in this place to find healing and
strength, peace and wholeness, presence and promise, in their lives – and then
take their gratitude – take their faith – out beyond those red doors at the
back of the church and into the world.
Each of us, in thank-full-ness
to the God who enfolds us, and the power of the Holy Spirit which lives within
us – each of us work to find ways of offering our gratitude. And in doing so we become the hands and feet,
the heart and voice of God, and we make a tangible difference in this world. And truthfully, the world is where our
gratitude is meant to be lived.
We see such gratitude lived
out in the world by our work with ministries such as Meals on Wheels, the
Smithfield Rescue Mission, Serve the Need, Stop Hunger Now, Episcopal Relief
and Development, and Harbor House, among many other programs. We see it in the way we rally to make sure
parishioners have rides to the doctors, the grocery store, and church; or how a
young child, who has lost a loved one, gets a scholarship to Camp Courage
sponsored by St. Paul’s through Hospice.
Work all of you do, either using your own hands or through your pledges
to St. Paul’s.
The life of grace finds its
home in a grateful heart. Those magic
words we have been taught since childhood aren’t magic because they can
manipulate God – they are magic because they can, by the grace of God,
transform our hearts – open our hearts to the power and promise of God to heal
our lives – and even save our lives. And
while gratitude isn’t quite heaven itself, perhaps claiming its presence in our
lives will afford us a glimpse of the transforming promise of God taking root
within us, and within our world – and that, my friends, is a glimpse of the
kingdom of heaven.
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