Your faith has made you well

 Now it happened as He went to Jerusalem that He passed through the midst of Samaria and Galilee.  Then as He entered a certain village, there met Him ten men who were lepers, who stood afar off.  And they lifted up their voices and said, "Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!"  So when He saw them, He said to them, "Go, show yourselves to the priests."  And so it was that as they went, they were cleansed.  And one of them, when he saw that he was healed, returned, and with a loud voice glorified God, and fell down on his face at His feet, giving Him thanks.  And he was a Samaritan.  So Jesus answered and said, "Were there not ten cleansed?  But where are the nine?  Were there not any found who returned to give glory to God except this foreigner?"  And He said to him, "Arise, go your way.  Your faith has made you well."

- Luke 17:11-19

Yesterday, we read that Jesus said to the disciples, "It is impossible that no offenses should come, but woe to him through whom they do come!  It would be better for him if a millstone were hung around his neck, and he were thrown into the sea, than that he should offend one of these little ones.  Take heed to yourselves.  If your brother sins against you, rebuke him; and if he repents, forgive him.  And if he sins against you seven times in a day, and seven times in a day returns to you, saying, 'I repent,' you shall forgive him."  And the apostles said to the Lord, "Increase our faith."  So the Lord said, "If you have faith as a mustard seed, you can say to this mulberry tree, 'Be pulled up by the roots and be planted in the sea,' and it would obey you.  And which of you, having a servant plowing or tending sheep, will say to him when he has come in from the field, 'Come at once and sit down to eat'?  But will he not rather say to him, 'Prepare something for my supper, gird yourself and serve me till I have eaten and drunk, and afterward you will eat and drink'?  Does he thank that servant because he did the things that were commanded him?  I think not.  So likewise you, when you have done all those things which you are commanded, say, 'We are unprofitable servants.  We have done what was our duty to do.'"

 Now it happened as He went to Jerusalem that He passed through the midst of Samaria and Galilee.  Then as He entered a certain village, there met Him ten men who were lepers, who stood afar off.  Leprosy separated people from their communities; it was a cause for complete banishment from society.  It was a disease of terrible suffering, and in some sense, symbolized sin.

And they lifted up their voices and said, "Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!"  So when He saw them, He said to them, "Go, show yourselves to the priests."  And so it was that as they went, they were cleansed.  This sort of cry from afar reminds us of the way we may call to Christ through prayer, although -- particularly when we feel stuck in some sinful behavior or a kind of evil situation -- we may be "far away" from Him.  To be admitted back into the society (including participation in worship) required a certificate from a priest.   We have read of a similar healing earlier in Luke's Gospel, of a single leper (see this reading).   When Moses prayed for Miriam when she was afflicted with leprosy, her healing was partial and came after seven days; these healings would by such standards be considered astounding.

And one of them, when he saw that he was healed, returned, and with a loud voice glorified God, and fell down on his face at His feet, giving Him thanks.  And he was a Samaritan.  So Jesus answered and said, "Were there not ten cleansed?  But where are the nine?  Were there not any found who returned to give glory to God except this foreigner?"  And He said to him, "Arise, go your way.  Your faith has made you well."  My study bible says that the question, "Where are the nine?" is very significant.  It says, "Christ came to heal all of fallen humanity, yet only a small portion receive Him in faith and thanksgiving to give glory to God.  Thus, 'many are called, but few chosen' (Matthew 20:16)."   The lesson here is that worship is the first priority.

The practice of gratitude is today widely touted as a way to counteract all kinds of depression and other seemingly modern ailments.  Outside of faith practice, this exercise of gratitude -- counting our blessings -- comes outside the understanding of gratitude to a particular person, including Deity, God.  Popular recommended practices of writing lists of the things one is grateful for come as a sort of pop culture psychological practice, a way of being mindful of things we have in life that are "good" -- but without necessarily attributing them or our gratitude to any "one" else.  It becomes a vague feeling of understanding that our lives are not all depressing and bad, we're not only "without."   As the common expression goes, it's a way of seeing the glass half-full as opposed to half-empty.  That's a sort of mindfulness that is helpful, but only partially on the way toward a relationship without any awareness of  the object of our gratitude at all.  We have a practice that we know is helpful, but there's no why or wherefore except as a sort of self-contained exercise.  It doesn't build community, and it doesn't build love, but it may help to counteract gloom and nihilistic thinking.  Gratitude, on the other hand, doesn't really seem to be fulfilled or even meaningful without an object of that gratitude.  We may express gratitude for what we have, but the word doesn't even really make sense unless we know also to whom our gratitude is directed!  Think about it, whom do you thank?  Does it make a connection or relationship?  Is it an expression of friendship or love or community?  What is the point of "gratitude" without someone to be grateful to?  So much of our modern understanding of charity as a good practice, of gratitude for what we do have in our lives as also a good practice, even of community building as a social good, come to us originally from faith.  But without faith, without an object of that gratitude, without an understanding of something that unites us in love and not just in social relativity, without a fullness or depth of the components of all these practices, the meaning and impact diminish.  We remain isolated, autonomous in the sense that we are without a power of love that goes beyond our understanding and invites us to growth in that understanding.  Without the joy of knowing love as a gift that is available to anyone and everyone, how do we receive the fullness -- the true fullness within ourselves and in our communities -- of these practices?  I can feel wonderful by helping someone else.  Couple that with the deep knowledge of relatedness that I have in God's love that connects me with doing something good or beneficial for another there is not the same deep joy, and there is not the same deep gratitude for being in a place where I am in a position to do some good for someone else.  There is a depth of peace that is given "not as the world gives."    And there is truly the joy that is complete.  Without a depth of relationship to the One who loves beyond our understanding, and teaches us to learn love more deeply, we are not really fully involved with gratitude or mercy or the love that is the object of all such practices.  We are not fully included in community that has a depth of sense and meaning to it.  Our efforts are missing a communion in love that is not dependent on results, but rather on the object of unification with that Source of all things, with a Person who loves beyond our comprehension but Whose love we nevertheless can know even when we are objectively "alone."  That is the mustard seed Jesus speaks of, for example, in yesterday's reading.  We are made to be united to Someone, to something so far beyond ourselves that it includes all of Creation in community.  Until then, our joy may not be complete, nor our peace what it can be in this love relationship.  Let us remember the ten lepers standing so far off, and calling for mercy, locked outside community by their affliction.   Only one realized the fullness of community, of relatedness, in his gratitude.  He was a Samaritan, a real outsider -- but love (real love) knows no limits.  What do we understand by this example?   Which of the ten do you suppose has more joy, more fullness, more peace, and true guidance in their lives to come?  Which one do you suppose is most mindful of his own reality?