Luke 17:11-17
Woe
unto me as a child if I called one of my friends and asked,
“Is Andrea there?”
Woe unto me if I called one of
my friends and asked,
“Can I talk to Andrea?”
Woe unto me if I answered the
phone with a curt,
“Hello.”
Woe unto me because my mom was
a stickler about manners, especially phone manners. If she overheard me calling
a friend and asking for said friend in the manner of my two examples, she would
come up behind me and say,
“May I speak to Andrea
please?”
At the sound of my brisk
“hello,” she would correct me and say
“Hello, Busse residence.”
She did this as many times as
it took, until my use of phone manners stuck, and I no longer needed to be
prompted. However, her lessons in manners did not stop with phone etiquette.
There
were table manners.
“Take your elbows off the
table.” “Chew with your mouth
closed.” “Were you actually, in fact, raised
in a barn?”
If I walked into the den and
stood in front of the television, ignoring that others were watching it, I
would hear,
“Amy, you make a better door
than a window.”
There
were the manners that went with sharing. Pulling out a stick of gum in front of
my friends meant I better have enough to share. It was impolite to have
something and not offer some to the others around you. Having manners meant you
didn’t interrupt people when they were talking, especially adults, unless it
was an absolute emergency. Manners meant speaking politely in response to someone
when you were spoken to.
Of
course my siblings and I were drilled on the basics, “Please.” “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” “Excuse
me.” These were the “magic words. Whenever
I would ask for something or receive something, I was asked, “What’s the magic
word?”
And
if we didn’t mind our manners, we heard about it; and not just from my parents.
Other adults were not shy about reminding my friends and me to mind our
manners.
I
am grateful to my mother, my father and all of the other adults who stressed
the importance of politeness. But that does not mean that I didn’t hate the
constant reminders to “mind my manners” when I was a kid.
Hated. Them.
I made a solemn vow that if I
ever had children, I would not do the same to them. I would not drill them on
manners. Then I actually had children. Becoming a parent made me realize how
important it is to teach my own children manners. So, in the spirit of my
mother, I drilled manners into them. Good manners go a long way.
This
wasn’t because I wanted to be the etiquette police. I did not push manners on
my kids just to conform to some expected social convention. Teaching them manners
was my way of teaching my kids to be gracious; to be respectful. I want them to
know that they have the power to turn an awkward situation into a joyful one. They
have the ability to transform a moment just by saying “thank you.”
“Thank
you” is the critical phrase in this passage from Luke’s gospel. Only two words,
but they make a world of difference. Jesus encounters ten lepers, heals them of
their leprosy and out of those ten only one turns around and says “thank you”
to Jesus for his healing.
This
isn’t the first time in Luke’s gospel or in any of the other three that Jesus
meets lepers, but the idea of giving thanks to Jesus for healing is unique to
this particular passage. There doesn’t
seem to be any other passage in any of the gospels where Jesus encourages the
people he heals to turn around and give thanks. I doubt Jesus healed someone,
and then prompted that person with “what are the magic words?” But in this instance, Jesus singles out the
Samaritan leper because the Samaritan turned around and gave thanks.
As
I said, Jesus has met lepers before in other situations. Lepers were absolutely
some of the least of these in this particular culture. Not only was leprosy –
and there were many different kinds of leprosy – considered to be a physical
ailment, but it was also thought to be a spiritual misfortune as well. Lepers
were ritually and spiritually unclean.
Because
they were considered unclean, lepers lived outside of the main community in
their own colonies. When clean people approached their “space,” lepers were
required to call out “unclean, unclean!” This warned people to keep their
distance. But they still had to survive, and begging was often the only way to
do that. So in spite of their uncleanness, they would sit near major traffic
ways and beg for charity as a means to survive.
I
can imagine these ten lepers sitting on the outskirts of the village, crying
out, “Unclean. Unclean.” And then they see Jesus. Although they didn’t dare get
too close to him, I can hear their cries of “unclean, unclean” turning into a plea
for help and healing.
“Jesus, Master! Have mercy on us.”
This
is not our typical gospel healing story. Jesus sees the lepers, but he does not
lay hands on them. He does not speak words of healing to them. Instead, he
sends them to the priest. When a leper was healed, cleansed of leprosy, a visit
to the priest was required. When the priest saw the leper and declared him or her
clean, that person was finally able to return to the larger community. Jesus’
command for them to go to the priest was not out of the ordinary, and certainly
within the structure of the Law. The ten obediently respond to Jesus and make
their way to find the religious leader. While on their way, they are healed. As
they were walking in faith, listening and responding to what Jesus told them to
do; they were once more made clean. One of them, a Samaritan, happens to notice
that his skin, his flesh has been healed. When he observes his healing, he
immediately turns back to Jesus and begins praising God with a loud voice. He
prostrates himself before Jesus’ feet and thanks him.
Jesus
asked him, “Didn’t I heal ten lepers, and only one came back? What happened to
the other nine? Only this foreigner saw fit to praise God and give thanks.”
Only
this foreigner. The one leper who turned back to Jesus had a double whammy
against him. He was a leper, therefore an outcast, and he was a Samaritan,
therefore an outcast. But he, the foreigner and the outcast, was the one who
turned around and cried out his praise and thanks. It was the alien in the
land, the Samaritan, who showed an attitude of gratitude. He was the only one
who came back. And the result of this was that not only was he cleansed of his
leprosy, but Jesus also blessed his faith. The Greek verb translated here as made well can and has been translated as
to be saved. Jesus healed ten lepers
and saved this one foreigner.
This
is not the first time Luke’s gospel has given us a story about a Samaritan, a
foreigner, doing something unexpected. The Samaritan along the Jericho
Road
It
was the Samaritan who showed gratitude. I don’t think that this is evidence of
the Samaritan’s mother drilling manners into him – although who knows. I think
that this Samaritan understood something about gratitude and thankfulness and
graciousness that perhaps the other lepers, and the others listening to Jesus,
did not; or at least they did not yet.
Being
grateful is not just an automatic response designed to oil the wheels of social
convention. Being grateful, living in gratitude is actually a way of being, a
state of mind. Preacher and teacher David Lose wrote that gratitude is like a
muscle. We have to constantly practice it and work it and practice it some
more. Gratitude is not necessarily easy, and it is not always our first
response. But gratitude actually does make a difference in our attitude and in
turn, can make a difference in our lives. There is a growing body of science to
back this up. People who live with gratitude tend to be happier.
I
think my gratitude muscle has gotten kind of weak. While I am pretty good about
being polite, I am my mother’s daughter after all, I do not live in a state of
gratitude. I tend to live in a state of waiting for the other shoe to drop. I
tend to live in a state of waiting for the next bad thing to happen. Worry,
anxiety, frustration, etc. are my much stronger muscles.
Don’t
misunderstand me, there are some events in our lives that makes practicing
gratitude incredibly hard. I do not believe that we are called to cover or hide
the genuine emotions that we feel when we are grieving or hurting or scared. People
who are depressed can’t just be told to get happy and everything will be all
right. But even as I say that, to be able to practice gratitude in the face of
the other things, even the overwhelming things, helps. But it takes practice.
So for just a minute, I’d like you to close your eyes and think of one thing,
one person, one aspect of your life for which you are grateful. You don’t have
to tell anyone. You don’t have to write it down and put it in the offering
plate. Just think about one thing that you are grateful for. (pause)
Now,
for the rest of the day, for the rest of the week, think about that thing,
think about that person. Say to yourself, especially in those moments when life
feels like too much, I am grateful for … See if it helps. See if it changes
anything. These are not magic words, but they may remind you that we have
blessings that we don’t always see as blessings.
I
know that all of these blessings will be different for each of us, but I also
know that one thing we all have in common is that when we ask Jesus to have
mercy on us, Jesus does. That’s grace. We don’t deserve it. We don’t earn it.
It isn’t always what we expect. But it’s there. Jesus had mercy on those
lepers, and it was the Samaritan, the foreigner, who recognized it, turned
around and gave thanks.
Jesus
has mercy on us. Let us give thanks. Let us be grateful. Let us practice and
work this gratitude muscle. Then let us show that grace, that mercy, that
unqualified love to others. All others. Let all of God’s children say,
“Alleluia!” Amen.
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