Sermon for the Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost – October 13th, 2019

Text: Luke 17:11-19

Revised Standard Version (RSV)

Jesus Cleanses Ten Lepers

11 On the way to Jerusalem he was passing along between Samar′ia and Galilee. 12 And as he entered a village, he was met by ten lepers, who stood at a distance 13 and lifted up their voices and said, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.” 14 When he saw them he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went they were cleansed. 15 Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice; 16 and he fell on his face at Jesus’ feet, giving him thanks. Now he was a Samaritan. 17 Then said Jesus, “Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine? 18 Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” 19 And he said to him, “Rise and go your way; your faith has made you well.”

 

In the Name of God, the Holy and Undivided Trinity. Amen

 

This passage has exactly 141 words, but don’t let that fool you – there’s a lot going on in it.

 

The first striking thing occurs right off, in the very first sentence – we find Jesus (and doubtless the disciples, too, of course, although they’re not mentioned) “passing along between Samaria and Galilee” on the way to Jerusalem. So they’re not only far from home, they’re on the border of Samaria, where “those people” lived. Those people who were despised and shunned by Jesus’ people as backsliders, as followers of the “wrong” religion, as mongrels who had interbred with strangers.

 

We need to note here that there was no way that Jesus and his little band could “pass between” Samaria and Galilee. There was no frontier area. You were either in Galilee, or in Samaria. The village we’re told Jesus visited may have been on either side – but I’m inclined to think that it was on the Samaritan side. (We’ll get to that in a minute.)

 

The second striking thing is, of course, the group of lepers. These ten lepers – why 10? Ten is a number that signifies good luck and power in ancient Jewish thought – these ten lepers both ask Jesus for help, but also – and I think this is very important to note – they keep their distance, for fear that he might become infected himself.

 

This makes their pleas for help all the more heart-wrenching. You can just see them, standing a safe distance away, waiting, faces full of hope, of yearning, of sadness, and maybe not a few of them with clenched teeth as they steeled themselves for the rejection they assumed would be coming, just as every other plea for help in the past had ended in rejection and disappointment. Their words “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us” hang in the air like smoke. I’ve heard it said that “in waiting there is fulfillment,” but I don’t think that applies in this case. They watch and wonder “what is this Jesus going to do?” Will he ignore them and just keep walking? Will he even so much as glance their way? Or will he…will he…will he…help?

 

And then their hopeless hopefulness is rewarded. Jesus looks over to them and says something so simple it’s almost an anticlimax: “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” Jesus recites no prayer, he doesn’t cast any spells, he doesn’t even raise his hands. He just says to them: Go. And they go.

 

We’re told that, as they went, they were healed. Not only did Jesus not even touch them, we see that he didn’t even get close to them. We focus on that miracle of healing. But the most important thing about this event is not – believe it or not – the miracle itself, but their action in going. For years, they had suffered out there on the edge of that unnamed village, passive, ignored, despised. Just like everyone else, they had assumed that there was nothing they could do to help themselves – they had probably tried everything they could think of, but it had all come to nothing. But, when Jesus tells them to go, to stop being passive, to take it upon themselves to move, the logjam is broken, and they are healed.

 

Many theologians say that we are “co-creators” with God. This is a concept that is best handled with care, like a vial of nitroglycerin, because the slightest misuse of it will make it blow up in our faces.

 

There are those who take this idea and twist it so that we are turned into “little gods” – the “prosperity gospel” people are famous for this view. As R. C. Sproul puts it, “[t]hese folks, many of whom glut our airwaves, suggest that just as dogs have puppies and cats have kittens, so God begets little gods.”[1] That idea is, of course, ridiculous; and yet there are those who have read I Corinthians 3:9 (“for we are co-workers with God”), for example, or Genesis 1:9 (“Let’s make man after our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion over the fish of  the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth.”), and drawn that conclusion.

 

But regarding today’s text, I think it’s more correct to say that the action taken by these lepers has more to do with the old proverb “God helps those who help themselves.” If a person’s been washed overboard in a storm, it’s certainly legitimate for him to pray, “God, save me!”; but he also needs to swim for the life saver they throw in after him! In that sense, being “co-creators” with God is a cooperative effort between us and God, just as we frequently pray when we ask God to help us do those things that are pleasing in His sight, or when we remember that we are indeed Jesus’ eyes, hands, ears, and feet in proclaiming the Gospel in word and action.

 

So even these ten leprous men were not just examples of the healing grace of God, but also participants in fulfilling God’s vision for creation, where illness, disease, and imperfection are replaced by wholeness, love, mercy, and perfection.

 

The third significant thing about this passage is that it is also – and I think, primarily – a story of gratitude. And this is where the fact that Jesus and these lepers are on the border of Samaria becomes significant; because we read about ten men who are healed, but only one of them – the Samaritan – expresses thanks. No doubt many of those who heard this were offended, because, after all, the Samarians were considered beneath contempt, lower than dogs. But Jesus once again torpedoes the arrogance of his people and shows them that God is bigger than their prejudices and that God’s mercy is boundless and granted to all, regardless of their circumstances.

 

There is no more telling example of selfishness and ingratitude as the failure to say “thank you” to those who deserve to hear those words. William Barclay writes, “So often, once people have got what they want, they never come back.

 

“…Often we are ungrateful to our parents. There was a time in our lives when a week’s neglect would have killed us. Of all living creatures human beings take longest to become able to meet the needs essential for life. There were years when we were dependent on our parents for literally everything. Yet the day often comes when an aged parent is a nuisance; and many young people are unwilling to repay the debt they owe. As Shakespeare’s King Lear said in the day of his own tragedy:

 

“How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is

To have a thankless child!”[2]

 

But it’s not just an issue between parents and children. Mark Link recounts the experience the psychotherapist Viktor Frankl had during World War II: “Many prisoners of war collapsed under the terror of Nazi death camps, but not all. Psychotherapist Viktor Frankl – a prisoner himself – probed for the reason. He concluded that the difference was faith. Faith put them in touch with a power that helped them maintain their humanity. When freedom came, some prisoners reacted bitterly; others reacted gratefully. Frankl was among the latter. Shortly after his release, he was walking through a field of wildflowers. Overhead birds were circling and singing. Instinctively Frankl knelt and prayed. To this day, he has no idea how long he knelt in prayer among the flowers.”[3]

 

Link concludes his commentary on this passage with the questions to us:

 

“How do I react to difficult situations? How do they affect my faith in God?”

 

Good questions. Questions we need to ponder in our own hearts.

 

Perhaps the most famous of all the writings of Shakespeare is Hamlet’s soliloquy which begins with these words:

 

“To be, or not to be, that is the Question:
Whether ’tis Nobler in the mind to ſuffer
The Slings and Arrows of outragious Fortune,
Or to take Armes against a Sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them”[4]

 

Whether the ten lepers knew it or not, by doing what Jesus directs them to do, they took up arms and helped to change their own circumstances. Being faithful does not mean being passive.

 

So the point for us today is to always be grateful. Being grateful to God is one of the hallmarks of faith. Because, you see, when we recognize what God has done and does still for us, it helps us to realize that life really is not “all about me.” It’s about us. It’s about how God works in and through us to change the world to conform more and more to God’s vision for it!

 

In the Name of God, the Holy and Undivided Trinity. Amen.

[1] Sproul, R.C., http://rcsprouljr.com/blog/ask-rc/rc-co-creators-god/

[2] Barclay, William, The Gospel of Luke, The New Daily Study Bible, Louisville, KY, Westminster John Knox Press, 1975, 2001, pp 258-9

[3] Frankl, Viktor, quoted in Link, Mark, S.J., Jesus: A Contemporary Walk with Jesus, Allen, TX, Resources for Christian Living, 1997, p. 389

[4] Shakespeare, William, “Hamlet,” quoted in https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/To_be,_or_not_to_be