Explorations in Being [Grateful]: Sermon for 10/13-- 9 Cured, 1 Healed
Sermon:
October 13, 2013
9 Cured and 1 Healed: Luke
17:11-19
The
Gospel text for today, the healing of the ten lepers, is rich with meaning. In
it we find again and again those core messages that Jesus preaches and teaches
and lives out over and over again. It is a story of gratitude and of noticing
the kingdom of God among all things, told in the familiar words of a parable.
We
are taken once again to finding God in an unlikely place and in an unlikely person.
It is the Samaritan, like the prodigal son; like the woman at Jesus’ feet who
cleanses him with perfume in her hair; like the shepherd boy David; or like
Rahab who offered hospitality and aid to Joshua’s soldiers as they entered
Canaan—who returns from being cured with praise and thanksgiving. The Jews, who
are part of the majority ethnic group, are not the ones who carry out Jesus’
message of total healing and wholeness; they are cured, but not healed. The
word “thanks” used in this parable is the same word used by Jesus when he gave
thanks to God for the cup and the bread on the night of the Last Supper. For
the leper to return to Jesus’ feet, lower to his knees and give thanks when he
could have walked away and basked in the afterglow of what had just happened to
him, indicates a kind of wholeness that could only come from God.
“Go
and show yourselves to the priests,” Jesus also says. Although the lepers’
crying out for mercy is heard and responded to immediately, it is not without accountability:
accountability not in a punitive sense, or in a way that suggests that the
lepers have done something wrong. It is quite the opposite, actually; the
accountability occurs when the lepers’ cleansing is connected to their real and
purposeful movement even in the midst of their physical suffering. It is their
movement to the temple that they are cured, and in the movement of the tenth
leper who returns and prostrates at Jesus’ feet, giving thanks, wholeness
happens. Call me cliché, but I am reminded of a very poignant scene in Forrest
Gump when the very act of his running from taunting boys causes the braces put
on his legs by misguided medicine to shatter off in a scene of beautiful
adolescent liberation. From that scene onward in the film, Forrest is running with all of his might, even if
he doesn’t have to, almost as if he were giving thanks with all of his body for
the restoration he has experienced despite often being marginalized for his
less-than-desired IQ among the circles he finds himself in.
Living
in community—any kind of community—requires the kind of unabashed thankfulness
that the leper demonstrates here. In my own intentional living community of 6 (part
of the Life Together program of this diocese) I must be diligent about taking
time to remember and give thanks for the wisdom and devotion that I am given
the opportunity to be a part of. My housemates are beautiful beings, and
sharing a space where we can each bring our unique personalities and
perspectives is a gift that also requires accountability. We are all of us
searching for wholeness, and even in the midst of arguing about how to clean
the dishes or how to pray together, I think Jesus’ voice is there, calling us
to stop and give thanks for this gift to learn and grow together.
Jesus
is asking you and asking me to open our eyes to the God at work in our lives,
and in the world around us, even in places of despair and hopelessness. We
might be one of the lepers, crying out in the midst of our pain with sores on
our body, “God, have mercy on me!” And Jesus hears us, and bids us to go to the temple to be made well.
But
he challenges us to not stay there; to accept the fullness of our being healed,
and to give thanks. Tom Ehrich, an
Episcopal minister who writes a daily reflection called On a Journey, wrote these eye-opening words in his devotion on this
passage from Luke earlier this week:
“My read: we are afraid, we are controlling,
and, in our version of Luke 17, we don't want to give God any credit for the
providence we enjoy. We'd rather take personal credit for good times and blame
an unfair God for hard times.
There, I've said it. If you'd like to quote me from your pulpit or kitchen table or office desk, please do so. This refusal to live in gratitude is, in my opinion, the spiritual crisis of our day.
It explains the greedy 1%, the anger tearing apart our political life, the well-advanced collapse of local churches, and the alienation from God that is making life seem unrewarding to so many.
This isn't about doctrine, conversion strategies, or denomination. It's about simple gratitude: seeing the hand of God at work in our lives. Sometimes as dramatically as the healing of a leper, most often less dramatically and yet as real.
In a sense, gratitude is the test of having any faith at all. The test isn't attending church -- some of my most faithful friends won't get near a church. Nor is it declaring oneself a Christian -- especially if "Christian" means being cruel, arrogant, judgmental and closed-minded.
The test of faith is seeing God at work. It is knowing that "goodness and mercy" do follow us "all the days of our lives." It is seeing God in the miracle of childbirth, the miracle of forgiveness, the miracles of self-sacrifice and justice and kindness.”
There, I've said it. If you'd like to quote me from your pulpit or kitchen table or office desk, please do so. This refusal to live in gratitude is, in my opinion, the spiritual crisis of our day.
It explains the greedy 1%, the anger tearing apart our political life, the well-advanced collapse of local churches, and the alienation from God that is making life seem unrewarding to so many.
This isn't about doctrine, conversion strategies, or denomination. It's about simple gratitude: seeing the hand of God at work in our lives. Sometimes as dramatically as the healing of a leper, most often less dramatically and yet as real.
In a sense, gratitude is the test of having any faith at all. The test isn't attending church -- some of my most faithful friends won't get near a church. Nor is it declaring oneself a Christian -- especially if "Christian" means being cruel, arrogant, judgmental and closed-minded.
The test of faith is seeing God at work. It is knowing that "goodness and mercy" do follow us "all the days of our lives." It is seeing God in the miracle of childbirth, the miracle of forgiveness, the miracles of self-sacrifice and justice and kindness.”
(pause) Pointed
words, and not exactly easy to swallow. There is no easy fix to the challenges,
large and small, that we face in our everyday lives and in the world around us;
but I think Jesus is beckoning us to remember the impact that gratitude has on
our lives, for it is an opportunity to respond to the impact that God has made
on our lives.
I
pray that the seeds of gratitude may be planted within us, and ground us in a
way that transforms us. I pray that through gratitude we might find ways to
move—our bodies, minds, hearts, churches, families, and communities—to do the
work that is before us: work as treacherous
as raising the minimum wage (which we will be learning about today) and
as simple as acknowledging the existence of injustice in our communities.
Interactive
activity: We are going to pass out slips of paper now, and on
them I invite you to write down words of gratitude you have for someone or
something. I would encourage you to think of something that you might not
normally give thanks for. As you write, allow your experience of it to fill you
up and invite you to wholeness. As we write we will sing and I will bring an
easel into the sanctuary for you to post them on. May these serve as a reminder
that when we are grounded in gratitude, praising God and giving thanks for
God’s presence, we are made whole. Amen.
My gratitude today is for having the privilege of reading these inspired and thoughtful words, Eva. May God continue to be with you on your journey toward wisdom and Light, keeping you grounded in His ever present love and compassion.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Dk. I so appreciate you reading it.
ReplyDelete