A Sermon from First Church, Scarborough…
A sermon offered by the Rev. Ian F. “Jack” Steeves in the public worship of the First Congregational Church of Scarborough, Maine on Sunday, October 14, 2007. The principal reading was Luke 17:11-19.
“Rise and go; your faith has made you well” (Luke 17:19 NIV).
“Up the Road and Back”
The story of the Ten Lepers reminds me of being in church. Ten leprous men stand at a distance, face Jesus, and, in unison, call his name and cry out, “pity us!” Ten men hear the good news of a pending healing. Ten men run off to find priests to affirm their healing. One man returns to sing a doxology and bows in thanksgiving at Jesus’ feet. To him, Jesus speaks a commission and a benediction: “Rise and go….”
The story moves like an order of morning worship, which is a bit strange, since no ancient house of worship would have admitted a leper. No congregation would have permitted the presence of one who was viewed as physically, ritually, and socially unclean. No synagogue or temple would have opened the door to the gratitude of the Tenth leper who was a Samaritan.
The ten men (Jews and Samaritan) stand for all who are outside of good society, outside the church and the parish, outside the acceptable norm, and beyond the pale of human contact. Given the Law and custom of the day, they, the Ten, were required to keep a distance of 150 feet from a clean person. They were required to warn others of their diseased presence by calling out, “Unclean, Unclean,” as they approached the Clean (Leviticus 13:45, 46). Covered in some sort of skin disease or affliction, all Ten are part of the fellowship of long suffering humanity.
(The Greek word, LEPRA, was used for various diseases of the skin, including but not necessarily leprosy or Hanson’s Disease.)
Jesus responds to their plea for a healing by telling them, “Go and show your selves to the priests.” On their way, the healing occurs. Jesus honors their petition by conferring on them the dignity of partnership in their own healing. They have a role play alongside the priests. They accept, they obey, and somewhere up the road they find they are wearing new skin.
In one sense, the Word does not heal us; it commands us up the road to where healing overtakes us. As the Ten go, their ruined hands, feet and facial features put on new flesh. They are ecstatic, who would not be so? Jesus told them to go, and in going they are healed. What are new feet for if not to run to the finish line.? To the priests then, and let’s step on it!
One of the Ten is a Samaritan. Healthy or ill, he is an outcast. He drops back, slows down, halts in the middle of the road, and turns around. Something more powerful and wilder than obedience comes over him. He is a new person, and that newness calls for a new voice. He runs back, “praising God with a loud voice,” falls at Jesus’ feet, pouring out the gladness of his thanks. It isn’t a tidy speech or prayer but a stammering, tumbling babble and a puddle of fresh tears in the dust. This man has found a new voice. Human praise is human love improvising a unique response to God’s Love.
“Were not ten cleansed?” asks Jesus. “Where are the other nine?”
Silly Jesus! It’s obvious where the nine are, or is it? The nine are doing what Jesus told them to do. They were ordered to go to the priests. They are running up the road to be purified and re-certified and re-admitted into human society. That is what the priests will do: certify their cure, with the restoration of all their social and religious privileges.
Now, maybe an outsider, a Samaritan, knows better and knows more. He has received and he knows it. He knows what time it is: it’s doxology time time – time to give back, back to God.
The question is not and, indeed, never was: “Where are the nine?” We know where they are. The question is “Where is the tenth?” Where is the one who followed his heart instead of his instructions? Is he with us? Oh, so often, the church resembles the dutiful procession or race of the Nine cleansed lepers. Where is the Tenth, where’s the one who wheels around to return to the wildness of God’s Love?
To be sure, Jesus requires obedience, but there is a special place within him for those whose gladness surpasses their obedience. So he says to the one at his feet, “Your faith has made you well,” or, a better translation, “Your faith has saved you.”
Up until now, in Luke’s Gospel, Jesus has spoken these precious words to only two other human beings, both of them outcasts, both of them women, one shedding tears, one finding her voice, and both of them do so, kneeling at Jesus’ feet (Luke 7:50; 8:48). This music is very rare indeed. Obedience is needed for the cure but not all the cured are made whole. The whole are those whose hearts break into praise, who fall with abandon at the feet of Love to improvise their own personal, love sonnet.
One is reminded of last Sunday’s parting hymn: “My life flows on in endless song….how can I keep from singing?”
The point of this passage is not to threaten or cajole us into expressions of gratitude, but to open our minds to the infinite possibilities of God Love in our lives. The story is not ended. This life and song of faith is a true pilgrimage up the road and back. God is ever waiting for our return. God does ask anything of us that we cannot give back to God. We can praise the one who gave thanks, but we also open our hearts to the other nine. They are our fellow travelers, too.
What would it be like for those of us who have had our healing to return to Christ with thanks and hear the words, “Your faith has saved you”? What would it be like if we really worked for the inclusion of all peoples and for the welfare of every community where we do live? Healing and saving moments can go hand in hand.
This day, let us remember and give thanks again for all God has done for us and all that God still wishes to do for and through us. This day, let us live in the spirit of true gratitude, and know that our faith is our salvation.
