One

Luke 17:11-19

October 6, 2024 (World Communion) • Mount Pleasant UMC

Every year at Thanksgiving, families like ours engage in a ritual that most everyone dreads but without which it wouldn’t be Thanksgiving. It’s the annual “Before we can eat you have to share something you’re thankful for” ritual. Now, I’m wondering if you’re the sort of person who volunteers to go first before all “the good answers” are taken. You jump in there with “family, friends, food.” And people around the table are trying to come up with something unique. If you’re a kid, you’ll probably just say anything in order to get past the ritual and get to the food. We say we are thankful people, and we give a whole day on the calendar to prove it, but it seems to me that the holiday of Thanksgiving has come unmoored from its roots. Today, on that fourth Thursday in November, we eat lots of food, watch parades and football, and celebrate some general or generic sense of thankfulness. But who are we are thankful to? You hear the phrase a lot: “Thank goodness!” And I always want to know who goodness is and why we should thank him or her.

Now I am aware that the holiday of Thanksgiving is still several weeks away, even though the stores are already preparing for Christmas. But while the holiday is only a day rooted in an historical event, the spirit of thankfulness, or as some call it an “attitude of gratitude,” is something that should characterize Christians not just on that one Thursday but on all the other days of the year as well. So this year, as we approach our stewardship celebration, we’re going to spend a few weeks talking about gratitude in this series called “A Thousand Thank Yous.” In the foyer, there is a large sheet of paper on the wall (maybe you saw it when you came in) and I am hoping you will write on it over the next three weeks. I want you to write things you are thankful for on that paper. My hope is that by the end of this series we will have over a thousand thank yous written on that sheet of paper. In addition, out in the foyer are note cards that you can use to write thank yous to people who have made an impact on your life. Wouldn’t it be great if a thousand of those went out all across our community or even the world from people at Mount Pleasant? A thousand thank yous, but whether we hit that goal or not, this morning I want us to remember that thankfulness starts with just one.

That’s something we see in the story we read from the Gospel of Luke this morning. Sometimes we read this through the lens of a cranky Jesus, or at least I’ve heard it read that way, but I hope that perhaps this morning we will see this story in a different light. Jesus is on the road, heading toward Jerusalem and ultimately his death on the cross (17:11). And, as Luke tells it, all throughout that journey he has encounters with people who want his help. Today it’s a group of ten lepers. Lepers in the ancient world were kept separate from the rest of society, “outside the camp.” Leviticus instructed them to wear “torn clothes, let their hair be unkempt, cover the lower part of their face as they cry out, ‘Unclean, Unclean!” (Leviticus 13:45; cf. Bock, Luke [IVPNTC], pg. 282). Leprosy was pretty much a death sentence, certainly a path to social ostracism, so how did they find Jesus? Was it by accident or were they waiting on him? But notice that when they encounter Jesus, they don’t ask for healing. They ask for mercy (17:13).

Most people of that time assumed that if you had leprosy, it was because of some sin you had committed. It was understood as a punishment from God. These ten had probably been told that by so-called religious people, and they had been shunned by everyone else. They probably saw themselves as unworthy of most anything, let alone attention from a rabbi, a religious teacher. But then they heard that this Jesus from Nazareth was different. He seemed to take an interest in the outcasts and the strangers. And so, standing at a distance, they take a risk and they ask for something they believe they don’t deserve. In the text we read today they ask for “pity” and it’s “mercy” in some other translations. But the plea there is actually for hesed, that untranslatable Hebrew word that describes receiving what you don’t deserve. They believe they don’t deserve any attention from Jesus, certainly not healing, but they take a risk and they ask anyway (cf. Card, Luke: The Gospel of Amazement, pg. 198).

And, miracle of miracles, they receive what they don’t deserve. Jesus tells them to go and show themselves to the priests (17:14), which was what you had to do if you needed to prove you were healed. If you were going to be admitted back into the community, you had to have the priest’s blessing. So they go to do what Jesus told them to do, but let me ask you: where’s the miracle? There are no special words spoken, no waving of the hands, and Jesus doesn't even touch them. Luke says, “As they went, they were cleansed” (17:14). Michael Card calls it an “unmiraculous miracle” (198). Ellen Vaughn imagines that, as they were going, each of them noticed that the others had body parts once damaged by the disease now grown back. The dirty rags fall from their faces and they suddenly find they can run normally on feet that have been healed. It’s an astounding picture to try to imagine, isn’t it? And then, overjoyed, they undoubtedly run to the priests, get their blessing and ran home (Radical Gratitude, pg. 43).

All except one. One of them, when he realizes he is healed, turns around and before he goes to the priest he runs back to the Savior. He bows down in front of Jesus, and Luke says he was “praising God in a loud voice” (17:15). He was shouting, singing, crying and shouting some more. He says thank you, probably over and over again, and then Luke gives the punch line: “And he was a Samaritan” (17:16). Why is that important? You might remember that there was a great deal of animosity—no, that’s not right, it was full-on hatred—between Jews and Samaritans. Normally they would have nothing to do with each other, but since they were all lepers—well, there is such a thing as a fellowship of sufferings. You can put up with that person you normally wouldn’t like if you have the same disease and are being treated by others the same way. The leprosy that united them is more important than the racism that normally divided them. Now, Luke doesn’t tell us but the implication is that the other nine were Jewish. They could have all been Samaritans, we don’t know, but Jesus makes a point of noticing that the only one who came back to express gratitude was a foreigner, a Samaritan. “The one person who should not have gotten it, did. The other nine who should have, didn’t” (Card 198). And what should have been ten thank yous was only one. Like I said earlier, sometimes we read Jesus as being angry at this. I think he is just disappointed and sad. Ten were healed. One said thank you.

And if he was disappointed and sad about that, how much more is he disappointed and sad when we do the same thing, when we forget to give thanks for all of our many, many blessings? A thousand thank yous wouldn’t even begin to cover all the ways we have been blessed. I wonder what Jesus feels when we come to him in prayer with our requests, our demands, the ways we tell him how to run the world, and we forget the ways he has answered our prayers yesterday. I appreciate the way Biblical scholar Tom Wright has put it: “We know with our heads, if we have any Christian faith at all, that our God is the giver of all things: every mouthful of food we take, every breath of air we inhale, every note of music we hear, every smile on the face of a friend, a child, a spouse—all that, and a million things more, are good gifts from his generosity. The world didn’t need to be like this. It could have been far more drab” (Luke for Everyone, pg. 206). God didn’t have to give us color or sunsets or the smell of a rose. He didn’t have to give us chocolate and ice cream and syrup and fires to cook marshmallows over. He didn’t have to make the world beautiful and vibrant and fragrant, but he did. He is the giver of all good gifts, and we are the grateful receivers (cf. James 1:17).

Or are we? Are we the one or the nine? I don’t mean that we’re not grateful for all that God has done for us; I’m sure the nine were ecstatic about the healing Jesus provided. It’s just that they didn’t think to go back and tell him that. I’m sure he knows. Besides, we’re just doing what he told us to do—we’re going to show ourselves to the priests. Let me ask it this way: if you were to assign a percentage to your prayer life, what percentage would you say is made up of thankfulness versus asking for more things? And what percentage of our prayers is telling God stuff he already knows? So the first part of becoming thankful people is actually thanking God, a practice that should naturally flow out of our faith. Jesus tells the one man who came back that his faith made him well (17:19). By that he doesn’t mean that he somehow summoned up enough belief to produce healing. The other nine were healed also. Rather, what Jesus means is that “his gratitude has revealed his faith” (Bock 284). His faith in Jesus was demonstrated by the fact that he came back to say thank you.

One way we demonstrate our faith to an ungrateful world is to simply thank God (rather than “goodness”) for all he has done for us. And to say it sincerely, not in the snarky way it’s usually said. Paul put it this way: “Rejoice always, pray continually, give” what? “give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus” (1 Thessalonians 5:18). Did you hear what he said about thankfulness? It should happen in all circumstances! Not just some, not just the ones we like, and not just the ones that are easy. We give thanks in all circumstances, even (maybe especially) the tough ones. Many of you know that I have had two open-heart surgeries to repair a birth defect, a hole in my heart that caused my heart to grow. I like to say I have a big heart, literally. Anyway, the recovery from both of those surgeries was hard, and the second time (seven years ago this week) was the worst. I can tell you I did not feel grateful on many days. I felt sick, weak and frustrated. God had to remind me of the many blessings I had even in that situation, that I lived in a place where there were skilled surgeons who could fix my heart, that such technology existed, that I had wonderful church members who brought me food and took me to doctor’s appointments, that I had a family who took care of me, and on and on I could go. Somewhere in the midst of that recovery, I became thankful rather than grumpy because I am called to give thanks to God in all circumstances. There is always something to be thankful for. And Paul knew about that, too, from all the times he ended up in jail or beaten or persecuted. That’s why he can also write these words: “Suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope” (Romans 5:3-4). “This rhythm of faith and gratitude simply is what being a Christian, in the first or the twenty-first century, is all about” (Wright 207) Give thanks to God in all circumstances because, as Paul says, giving thanks is God’s will for you and for me and for all of us. He wants us to be thankful people, which leads us to another aspect of gratitude.

That other aspect is this: thanking those whom God uses. That’s what this leper—or, rather, this former leper—does in this story. He appeals to Jesus, finds that he is healed, and then returns to Jesus to thank him for said healing. He thanks the one God used. Now, yes, I know Jesus is God and all that, but the leper didn’t necessarily know that at the time. He knew Jesus was a rabbi, a teacher, a wise man of Israel, and so he presumed that Jesus was the one God used to bring healing. In his mind and in his actions, he was thanking the one God used to heal him. When you do a survey of the New Testament and check out all the places where thankfulness is commanded or where it happens, you’ll find that all of them have to do with relationships or with circumstances that involve relationships with others (cf. Bock 285). I guess that really shouldn’t surprise us; God made us for community, after all. Just a few chapters before this, Jesus told a parable that begins with this principle: “Life does not consist in an abundance of possessions” (Luke 12:15). Contrary to the bumper sticker theology that you sometimes see, the one with the most toys does not win. Life is not about stuff; it’s about people and relationships and nothing builds a relationship like thankfulness. Two simple words can bind hearts together: “Thank you.”

I don’t believe the nine who didn’t come back to thank Jesus ignored him on purpose. But when we skip thanking those who are used by God to bring healing or hope or anything into our lives once, it becomes easier the next time. And the next time. And the next. When we fail to be grateful, our hearts begin to turn toward ungratefulness, whether or not that was ever our intention. As one author has put it, “First comes complaining, then bitterness, anger, then feeling victimized or entitled to things that we’re just not getting” (Vaughn 51). Does that sound anything like the world we live in? Several years ago, I visited a restaurant I had been to before and had poor service, poor food, just an overall bad experience. So I did what you do, and I wrote a bad review online on one of those review apps. A friend of mine saw it and called me out. He asked me if I had written a review of the times when I was happy with the restaurant. I had not, and he was right. If I was going to complain I needed to also compliment. A lack of gratitude breeds ungratefulness which can lead to bitterness, anger and entitlement.

So I have tried to be the one more often than I am the nine. I don’t always succeed, but I am trying. I thank the baristas at Starbucks for making my drink every day. I thank the person who holds the door so that I can get in to get my drink every day. I thank the server at the restaurant, and I’m always amazed at how many thank me for thanking them, which tells me they get more complaints than they do thanks. I understand that. I thank the DoorDasher who drops off our lunch, I thank the delivery person who brings the Amazon packages to my door, I thank the parents who give us an opportunity each day to care for and educate their children in our preschool. I even thank the lady who sticks a needle in my arm every week to check my blood thickness! My point is this: there are probably a thousand thank yous that we can experience each and every day if we commit to being the one and not the nine. Pay attention. There’s a world around you in desperate need of gratitude. Author Ellen Vaughn puts it this way: “Being thankful is not rocket science. Though the topic of gratitude goes as deep as the grace of God, it does not require tough biblical exegesis or advance degrees to practice it. It just requires obedience” (Vaughn 43).

This morning, there will be about 300 of you here in worship [and a few more worshipping with us online]. Let’s suppose each of us, from the youngest to the oldest, finds five ways each day this week to be the one and say “Thank you” to someone. That’s 10,500 acts of gratitude over the next seven days. That’s way more than a thousand, and it’s only our first week! Five acts of gratitude every day for the next week. What do you think that could do? It just might change the world.

Today is World Communion Sunday, the one Sunday every year when the vast majority of Christians around the world gather at the Lord’s table and share in the bread and in the cup. This act, this practice that Jesus gave to his disciples on the last night he was with them should unite us, but as I’ve said recently, instead we end up spending a lot of time and energy arguing over how to do it and when to do it and who can do it and all of that stuff. But Jesus didn’t say we had to do it exactly like he did. He just told the disciples and us to do it. Do it in remembrance of him. And different traditions call it by different names. We typically refer to it as communion, the time when we commune or fellowship around the table with Jesus. We are in his presence. Some call it the Lord’s Supper, a reminder that this was a celebration. It was a Passover meal, the time when Jesus, the disciples and all of the Jews remembered how God had rescued their people from slavery in Egypt centuries before. To sit at the table for a Passover meal was to share in that rescue; it was thought that you became part of that rescue, that God was rescuing you right along with the rest of Israel. And still parts of the church call this practice the Eucharist. Now that’s a strange word unless you’ve grown up with it and even then you might not know what it means. Eucharisteo is actually a Greek word that means “giving thanks.” How about that? When we share in this bread and in this cup, we are giving thanks to God for all he has done for us through the death and resurrection of his Son, Jesus. So this is your freebie for the week. This is your first act of gratitude for the week (so you only have to do four more today) because when you come forward this morning to receive the bread and the juice, you’re giving thanks to God. This sacrament is a eucharist, an act of giving thanks. So be the one. Come this morning with a grateful heart for all that God has done for you and all the ways he has loved you so completely. Will you join me in prayer as we prepare our hearts on this World Communion Sunday? Let’s pray.