October 10 sermon

Text: Luke 17: 11-19
Preached October 10 at Grace Lutheran Church in Nerstrand, MN, and Vang Lutheran Church in rural Dennison, MN


So, Jesus is on the move again. He's now in the final stages of his journey to Jerusalem, but he never seems to get very far without someone asking for something. This time, it's not one person, but ten. And they all call out: "Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!"

These ten men had leprosy. Not only were they afflicted with physical illness, but their disease would mean that they were also cast out of society, isolated from their loved ones, and left to fend for themselves. So it was quite obvious to Jesus what they wanted, specifically. They wanted physical healing. They wanted social and religious acceptance. They wanted the restoration of their place in their community.

Rather than touching them, like we often see him do, Jesus says, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” We haven’t heard that any healing has occurred yet, but they must have believed something would happen. The priests’ job was to examine them and declare them clean and acceptable to the community. There would be no reason to see the priests if there was no change in their condition.

But there was a change. In fact, Luke says, “as they went, they were made clean.” Completely cured on their way to see the priests! I’m sure they were ecstatic! And they probably couldn’t wait to get to the priests so they could officially end their suffering and isolation and rejoin their community.

But Luke says “one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back.” One of them interrupted his trip to the priests. As eager as he was, he postponed his acceptance back into society. And he turned back to Jesus.

Not only did he turn around, but he praised God loudly all the way back. As he approached, he got closer and closer, and he just kept coming, until finally, he fell on his face at Jesus’ feet, thanking him all the while. This is an extravagant response! This one man clearly made the connection. He recognized Jesus’ healing as the work of God.

But there’s another piece to this story. This man—the one who turned back to praise God—this man has a secret. And Luke keeps it secret until we’ve seen the man’s extraordinary response. Then Luke springs it on us: the man is a Samaritan. He is not a Jew. He is not one of God’s chosen people. He is a foreigner, an outsider, looked down upon by those on the inside.

Who would have expected this outsider to be the one to figure it out? Who would have expected this outsider to recognize God’s activity? Who would have expected the outsider to turn back to Jesus? Who would have expected the outsider to offer the most extravagant thanks and praise?

I don’t think Luke’s readers would have expected it, and I know I wouldn’t have either.

Shouldn’t it be the Jews who turn back to Jesus? The Jews are the insiders in God’s story. They are the chosen ones. Shouldn’t it be the Jews who recognize that such a miracle could only be the work of God?

But this is not how it happens. The nine Jewish lepers do not return. For whatever reason, the Samaritan is the only one who returns to thank Jesus. The Samaritan—the outsider—recognized God at work in his healing and responded with gratitude and praise.

This outcome is not at all expected. But why is it so surprising? As Terry Fretheim says, “God does not run a ‘closed shop’ on who receives a word from God and who can engage it.” As we just saw, Jesus did heal and speak with the Samaritan in the first place. He didn’t refuse to engage with him because he was an outsider.

So perhaps we should expect this response. Perhaps we shouldn’t be surprised when God works in unexpected ways, among unexpected people. Perhaps we shouldn’t be surprised when those we see as outsiders recognize God’s work and respond to it with extravagant gratitude and praise. After all, this isn’t the first time we’ve seen it happen, and I’m sure it isn’t the last.

What about Naaman, the Syrian general we just heard about in our first reading today? He too, suffered from leprosy, which may have been surprising for someone described as a “mighty warrior.”

Naaman heard from his wife’s servant that there was a prophet in Israel who could cure his condition. So he went to Israel and saw Elisha. Like Jesus does in Luke’s account, Elisha kept his distance. In fact, Elisha didn’t even come out of his house. What an unexpected reception! Naaman fancied himself important enough that at least Elisha could have shown his face!

But instead, Elisha just sent a messenger to tell Naaman to go and wash seven times in the Jordan River. What an unexpected instruction! Naaman had expected something a bit more dramatic. He couldn’t see how a simple bath in the Jordan would cure his leprosy, especially when he thought there were better rivers back in Syria. So “he turned and went away in a rage.”

But Naaman’s servants convinced him to get over his anger and do as Elisha had instructed. So Naaman washed seven times in the Jordan, and “his flesh was restored like the flesh of a young boy, and he was clean.”

Naaman returned to Elisha and said, “Now I know that there is no God in all the earth except Israel.” And Naaman declared that he would henceforth worship only the Lord. This Syrian general—this outsider—recognized God at work in his healing and responded with gratitude and praise.

And then there was a woman I’ll call Carol (which is not her real name). She was a patient on my unit of the hospital where I did CPE last summer. Carol was suffering withdrawal from nicotine, alcohol, and opiates. Her appearance during my first visit shocked and distressed me.

She was emaciated. Her hospital gown hung on her like a tent, and I could see the outlines of the bones in her shoulders and upper chest. She looked like a frail little bird, or maybe a twig that would snap in the slightest breeze.

Her eyes kept rolling back in her head. She was disoriented, and she was frustrated that she didn’t know what was going on with her treatment. She seemed to generally feel like a victim.

When she managed to speak coherently, she talked about how much she loved her grandchildren and how she didn’t want them to see her so “goofy,” as she put it. But I learned from the nursing staff that Carol had been through chemical dependency treatment over 30 times without success.

We didn’t have a chance to talk about God during that visit, but I expected her to express feelings of guilt or shame, or perhaps a sense of rejection. Imagining myself in her shoes, I thought I’d feel hopeless—like God had abandoned me into the grip of this awful addiction, and after trying so many times, there was just no way out. After all, she hadn’t experienced the healing that the Samaritan and Naaman experienced.

But when we got around to the big question I was so interested in—“How are you doing with God?”—I didn’t get the response I expected. She didn’t express feelings of guilt or shame. She didn’t express a sense of abandonment or despair.

She looked me straight in the eye and said, more clearly than anything she had said so far, “I know God is right here with me.” She told me she prays all the time, and she reads her Bible, and she knew that God would not desert her during her struggles. There was confidence and deep appreciation in her voice. Carol—who hadn’t yet been healed—saw God at work even in her suffering, and she responded with gratitude and praise.

The Samaritan threw himself at Jesus’ feet, thanking Jesus and praising God loudly. The Syrian general declared his faith in God and set out to worship him. And the addicted woman remained convinced of God’s presence and love.

A leprous Samaritan, a Syrian general, and a suffering addict. They seem like a motley crew, and they wouldn’t be the first place I would expect to find faith. But they all saw God at work in their lives, and they all responded with profound gratitude and worship.

And what about us? How do we respond to God’s work in our lives? We might think of ourselves as “insiders” in God’s story. We know of God’s work. We are in relationship with God through Jesus Christ. We are nourished and healed every time we hear God’s love and forgiveness proclaimed for us, and every time we receive Christ’s body and blood at this table. This is God’s work in our lives. And how do we respond?

I’ll tell you how I see you responding. I haven’t been around here very long, so I can’t speak to as many details as I would like, but I’ve seen a few things already.

[GRACE] We had an intern committee meeting here this week, and I couldn’t even count the number of people who commented on how warm and cozy and inviting this space is. That ministry of hospitality is a response to the good news you have received here. That warm and welcoming atmosphere is you inviting others to share in the gift of community God has created here. It is a reflection of your gratitude for God’s work in your lives.

[VANG] Today we’re celebrating the major improvements you just made to this building so that people with limited mobility can comfortably join you in this place. That ministry of hospitality is a response to the good news you have received here. That welcoming improvement is you inviting others to share in the gift of community God has created here. It is a reflection of your gratitude for God’s work in your lives.

It is true that we often miss the boat. We often dismiss apparent “outsiders.” We often fail to recognize God at work in our own lives, or to respond with praise. We are often the nine who do not return to thank Jesus.

But there’s yet another unexpected twist to this story, and that is…sometimes we do get it. Sometimes we do see God at work in our lives, and sometimes we do respond with extravagant gratitude and praise.

Sometimes we find ourselves at Jesus’ feet with the no-longer-leprous Samaritan, praising God loudly. Sometimes we find ourselves with Naaman at Elisha’s door, confessing our faith in the one true God. Sometimes we find ourselves with the suffering addict, witnessing to a God who never abandons us in our suffering.

Sometimes we are the one who turns back to bless the Lord, and here we are this morning. And, like he did for the leper who returned to him, Jesus will send us on our way to share the good news of God’s work in our lives, and in the lives of all people. Thanks be to God!