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GRACE AND PEACE TO YOU FROM GOD OUR CREATOR AND OUR
LORD AND SAVIOR, JESUS THE CHRIST:
Thank God for pain. It tells us when we need to change something
about what we’re currently doing. One of the very unfortunate
side effects of leprosy is that one loses sensation in the
nerve endings—so the person with leprosy can seriously
injure a foot or hand and not know it. The people of Jesus’
day did what they knew how to do when someone contracted leprosy.
They isolated the person in an attempt to keep others from
catching it.
In that era there were no cures for this terrible disfiguring
disease. Nor were there any centers for their care other than
colonies that kept them away from the general population.
So to have leprosy was a terrible condition on several levels.
There was the disease itself to deal with. The very real and
present danger of doing serious harm to oneself because one
could not feel physical pain. And the isolation from the rest
of the community. The person with leprosy’s only companions
were others with the same condition. Even if someone wanted
to help they could not unless they wanted to forfeit their
own life in the community to go live in a leper colony.
Then along comes Jesus. He was on his way to Jeruslem, traveling
in the region between Samaria and Galilee. This was an area
of outcasts. Samaritans were half breeds in the opinion of
the Jewish people and not welcome among them. They had no
respect, no rights, and no welcome among the mainstream Jewish
people.
In a very sad and tragic way leprosy was a uniter of the
outcasts. The common denominator of leprosy erased other lines
that might separate people. When people had leprosy other
traits didn’t much matter.
Our text today does not tell us the ethnic or national affiliation
of the ten lepers except that one was a Samaritan. Let us
suppose for a moment the other nine were not. In their mutual
desperation they call out to Jesus to have mercy on them.
Jesus, seeing their condition, tells them to go to priests.
So they start on their way and amazingly—they are
made clean—cured of the leprosy. The priests had the
authority to declare them clean and therefore able to rejoin
the community. A person with leprosy was required to call
out “unclean, unclean” to warn others to stay
away. A certificate from the priests meant they could rejoin
the community! Unless they were Samaritans. In which case
they still would not be welcome.
One turns back—and that one we know was a Samaritan.
He was so stunned that he, a Samaritan at that, should be
cleansed from the dreaded disease that he went back and said
“thank you.” Jesus notes that ten were made clean,
but only one comes back.
The strange thing about this is that the other nine were
doing exactly what Jesus had told them to do. They were told
to go to the priests. And they did.
So, perhaps they figured the best way to thank Jesus was
to do as he instructed. Obedience to God’s word is frequently
lifted up as the appropriate response in scriptures. Perhaps
they were so ecstatic that they were clean that they couldn’t
wait to get their verification from the priests and get back
to their lives before leprosy. We don’t know.
What we do know is that one turned around and came back
to thank Jesus. Perhaps he realized he still would no longer
be part of the group of 10. Perhaps he feared the priests
would reject him, and hoped Jesus wouldn’t.
We don’t know what he was thinking either.
What we do know is that Jesus tells him to get up and go
on his way; his faith has made him well. The English word
well in this passage comes from a Greek word that means saved.
The nine were cleansed of their leprosy and would be declared
so by the priest. The Samaritan was cleansed of the leprosy
and was declared to be healed—saved—by Jesus,
the high priest who makes us all whole or healed or saved.
This one got a double healing—of both his disease
and his broken life of rejection and alienation. Jesus doesn’t
tell him where to go next. He only blesses him to be on his
way—now a well—whole—saved person. He has
a new identity now—where it counts most—as he
perceives himself. He has been twice blessed by the one who
not only has mercy, but also has power to restore, make new,
heal, save.
He is a leprosy survivor—and that will be part of
his biography for the rest of his life. However leprosy is
no longer the focal point of his life. It’s not the
first term used to define him. His new image is one of himself
as one healed by his exchange with the Healer.
When I did my hospital chaplaincy training at Hermann Hospital
I soon learned that it was common for someone who was being
treated for a physical disease to also be wrestling with some
kind of emotional or spiritual pain. The doctors might be
treating an ulcer or cancer but the patient was still feeling
guilt over the suicide of a son or an unconfessed affair or
the estrangement from a parent.
After listening to these stories for a while I would always
ask a patient if they’d like me to pray for them. I
was never turned down. And often the result was a spontaneous
flow of tears. Tears that were washing out emotional pains
and fears that went back years.
We go looking for healing in all the wrong places. Instead
of crying out to the Healer for mercy, we take matters into
our own hands and try to do a self-healing job. We fill our
bodies and our schedules with all sorts of things that distract
us from coming to terms with the alienation we too often experience.
Alienation from our Lord, the community we’re created
to experience and even a healthy sense of being who we were
meant to be.
We deceive ourselves into believing our angst and unhappiness
come from circumstances out there. We experience leprosy of
the soul. If we avoid coming to terms with it long enough
we no longer even feel the hunches that something is wrong.
We can be so convinced that the problem is out there instead
of within or between us and others that we lose our sensitivity
to pain. We no longer feel the nudges and invitations to change.
Thus we see people indulging in any number of potentially
destructive behaviors to distract themselves from themselves.
Such excesses frequently leave people feeling emotionally
and spiritually exhausted—wondering what’s wrong.
Efforts to distract ourselves often backfire. We don’t
need to change our circumstances. What we need is a deeper
awareness of our connection with our Creation and more authentic
relationships with a core community of people who love and
cherish us for who we are.
The ten with leprosy all began their healing process by
crying out to Jesus for mercy. A good starting place for any
of us.
Perhaps we see ourselves as one the nine in this story—on
our way to the priests who can validate our cleansing and
welcome us back into the fold. Perhaps we see ourselves as
the one who turned back to say “thank you” and
in doing so received a second, individual blessing for our
effort. I wonder if we dare see ourselves as Jesus—as
Martin Luther would put it—little Christ’s to
one another. If we can think of ourselves as those who can
declare to others, get up and go on your way—your faith
has made you well.
Leprosy no longer condemns people to live in colonies apart
from others. But there are other factors that keep people
isolated and cut off from the mainstream community. Who are
some of the people we put aside in colonies of isolation in
our day and age?
Who are the people we consider to be on the outside –
unfit to dwell among us? And what criteria do we use to decide
that? Who should decide? Do we ever condemn people to alienation
from the community because of factors over which they have
no control? We have in the past.
We used to do keep the mentally ill isolated in attics or
basements or institutions that were more like prisons than
hospitals. It took until the 1960’s and Dr. Martin Luther
King’s persistent, patient, passionate insistence that
we should judge people by the content of their character rather
than the color their skin to really start shifting our attitudes
about racial justice issues. My grandmother was the first
generation of women in this country to be allowed to vote.
I think there’s been a long history of those who have
the power and opportunity to make decisions deciding who will
be accepted in the community and who will be kept separated—often
for conditions over which they have no control.
How will these folks be invited and welcomed into the community
if not through us? We are recipients of Jesus’ healing
through our faith, through our baptisms, through our hearing
of the word, through our partaking of the communion meal.
Are we not also called to extend the invitation to others?
To those who, like the ten with the leprosy call out for mercy.
I think the point of today’s story is that we don’t
have to settle for a physical cure of a disease when Jesus
holds out to us complete healing for our minds and spirits
as well. We are free to get up now and go on our way—assured
that there is no condition that can ever separate us from
the love and care of Christ. As we believe that, I believe
we’re also now invited to extend that kind of acceptance
to others. Today we hear Jesus saying to us, individually
and collectively as a community of faith filled people—get
up from whatever holds us back. Go on our way. Our faith has
made us well. Let’s believe that good news and share
that blessing with those outside of the community. Amen
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