What does it mean to be “made well.” I find it fascinating that as Jesus approaches some nameless village in the region between Samaria and Galilee, ten lepers come near. Now they are respectful, and keep their distance, as good lepers would do. If you had the misfortune to get leprosy (which could be any number of skin ailments in that day), you knew that you could no longer live near anyone, you could no longer touch anyone, you were “out-cast.”
So these lepers get close enough to Jesus to call out. And what do they ask for? Do they say, “Jesus, heal me of my leprosy?” No. They say, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!” Now we could say that “having mercy” might mean restoring them to health, to their family, to their community. But I started reading backwards in Luke’s gospel looking for people asking to be healed. And do you know what I found? Not much. People ask for others who they care about to be healed: like the centurion’s slave, or Jairus’ daughter. There is the woman with the flow of blood who doesn’t even ask, but just reaches out and touches Jesus’ cloak believing she will be healed. And there are the times that Jesus decides to heal without being asked: a man who has dropsy, or the man with the unclean spirits, or the widow of Nain’s son. In fact, it is amazing how few times in Luke, at least to this point, that we have heard Jesus be petitioned to heal, even though we know he and his disciples have been healing all around the region.
“Have mercy on us” might mean heal us. Or it might mean forgive us. Forgive us for whatever we did, or our family did, that would have caused this terrible illness—for that is how the people of Jesus’ time understood illness in their minds. If you got sick it was punishment for something (and there is still an undercurrent of this thinking today). “Have mercy on us” was a radical request. Take away my sins. Remove the stain from me. Jesus, we believe that you can do such things. Restore me to wholeness. And Jesus did.
Did they get healed because they asked? I would say no. They were made clean by the gracious gift of God. They were made clean as they followed Jesus’ directions and headed back to the village, back to the priests, back to the ones who would declare them fit to rejoin society. They had been visited by grace, freely given by God—not because they asked, but because Jesus SAW them, and had compassion.
I’m pushing this point because I think it is very dangerous to equate cause and effect around healing. This is a good story. The ten were healed. But bring it into this day and age. Is it true that every time we ask God to “heal” us it works? Sadly, that is not the reality. But remember, those lepers didn’t ask to be healed; they asked for mercy. And God granted them mercy and healing.
I guess the point that struck me about this story this week was that there is nothing we can do to earn God’s grace or mercy. Of course, we can come near to the throne. Of course, we can assail God with our prayers, and with our praise. Of course, we can hold onto our faith, be it as small as a mustard seed. But none of that is required for God’s grace to reach out and change our lives. And none of that assures us that we will get the outcome for which we so desperately wish.
But, if we are searching for something TO DO—that is a different story. We can’t earn God’s love, but we can certainly turn and react to it. There the lepers are running toward the priests (I guess expecting the healing miracle to happen along the way), and they notice they have been made clean. Did they feel different? Were they watching for the signs? Did they see the changes on their companions? However it happened, they knew. And one of them, only one of the ten, turned back. Turned around and praised God. And came to Jesus (who was watching this spectacle?), and threw himself on the ground, and said “Thank you.”
That’s the crux of the story. Nothing you do makes you merit God’s love, but everything you do in response to God’s love does matter. Jesus notices. Jesus even says, “Weren’t there ten of you? Ten lepers who are now clean? Where are the other nine?” And to make the point even more underlined, the writer of the gospel of Luke informs us that the one who returned, the one who said “thank you,” the one who praised God—that one was a Samaritan. (Remember Samaritans worshipped God on the wrong mountain and therefore were not considered good Jews or even Jews at all).
Jesus looked at this thankful man and said, “Get up, arise, go on your way; your faith has made you well.” Is made well different than made clean (what the author says of the other lepers)? Is “made well” something in addition? Is “made well” akin to the feeling we have when we sing and believe “it is well, it is well, with my soul”?
I find it amazing that in this story Jesus has so little to do with making them clean (the healing in our minds). That happens on their way. But Jesus has everything to do with declaring the Samaritan,--the one who turned back, the thankful one—declaring that he has been, made well.
Our story today encourages all of us to turn and say “thank you” to God. Thank you for our lives. Thank you for whatever health we have. Thank you for those around us. Thank you for the things that bring us joy. Thank you for all the gifts of God. “Now thank we all our God, with heart and hands and voices” sings in my mind.
Our story today highlights what important work it is to try to welcome those on the margins of our society back into the midst of our community. I have Brian Stevenson’s life experiences that he has written about in “Just Mercy” echoing in my brain. Who are those we have pushed outside the village—people who have served their time but can’t get a job, or housing, or assistance, or even a ballot? Who are those we have pushed outside the village—people who don’t look like us, or speak like us, or worship like us? Who are those we have pushed outside the village—people who we fear, people who have great needs, people we dislike? Do we hear the cries of those who beg “Have mercy on us”?
Our story calls us to get up, to be willing to leave the relative safety of the nearness of Jesus, and go out into our wider world. Going with thankfulness. Going with amazement that we are well. Going with the knowledge that there are so many others who need to be touched by God’s mercy, love, and grace.
And so, I invite us all to use the words of the professor, preacher, and author, Walter Bruggeman, from his book, Awed to Heaven, Rooted in Earth to pledge what we will do because of this encounter with Jesus.
ALL:
O God, In thankfulness,
we will give,
we will tell,
we will live,
Your gift through us to gift the world. Amen.
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