Sermon on Gratitude and a Prayer for the World
Tere Tyner Canzoneri
Luke 17:11-19
Ten men are sitting outside the city gate. They are there because they have leprosy – a catch-all term for skin conditions that were considered unclean according to the Jewish religious law of the day. They were outside the city because they were believed to be contagious. Whether or not the diseases were themselves contagious, persons who came in contact with those declared lepers would also become ritually unclean. Also, I suspect people were frightened and unsettled by the disfigurement that could come from the diseases. Like us, folks didn’t want to see what looked scary and uncontrollable. So, having been declared lepers, these men were outside the city.
But they were near the gate. There they could beg from those going in and out of the city. And I imagine they could also get occasional word about their family and friends and the community that had once been theirs.
When they saw Jesus, these men cried out, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.”
Earlier in Luke’s gospel, Jesus had healed a leper by touching him. It is possible these men had heard this story or rumors about it and wanted some of the same. If you had an incurable disease that also banished you from your life, and you heard that there was someone who could cure you, wouldn’t you do everything you could to get to him? So, it is possible they had been staying near the gate, watching for Jesus. Hoping, praying he would come by.
On the other hand, they may not really have known who Jesus was. It may have been their routine practice in their desperation and hopelessness to call out to whoever was passing by, “Please, Sir, have mercy on us. Throw us a crumb. Something.”
I would like to think that Jesus would have had compassion either way. But because of what happens next, and because this is generally the way Gospel stories go, probably they knew something of who Jesus was.
In the earlier story in Luke 5, when Jesus healed a single leper, Jesus reached out and touched the man. There is something incredibly wonderful about that. Lepers in Jesus’ day never got touched. When Jesus moved to heal that man, the first thing he did was touch him. He began by his touch to restore the man to community.
Jesus doesn’t do that here. We don’t know what made the difference. Maybe it was because there were ten of them. Or maybe because there were other people around and he thought touching them would call too much attention to him. Or maybe it was because he was sending them home.
Because that is what he was doing. He was sending them home. Once the priests declared them clean, they would go home, where wives, children, parents, siblings, friends, would soon be covering these men with hugs and kisses. They had thought this one they loved was gone forever and now here he was restored physically, religiously, socially. Oh, yes, soon they would be touched.
But this hadn’t happened yet. There they were, covered with leprosy. Without doing anything to change this, Jesus said “Go let the priests examine you.” And they went. He didn’t say he was going to heal them. He didn’t say what would happen. He just said go. They just got up and went. All ten of them. This group of dirty, unhealthy, unwelcome men just headed toward the center of town looking for the priests. Maybe some of them had faith. Maybe some thought that it was a test, or the first of several steps of a process. Or maybe some were just glad to have an excuse to enter the city. Whatever it was, before any apparent change had occurred, they went. And “on the way, they were made clean.” Something in their faithful movement, before they got there but while they were on the way, changed them. They were made whole.
Nine of them took off running. I’ve heard a lot of sermons in my life that interpreted this to mean that they were not grateful like the one who returned to thank Jesus. But let’s put ourselves in the place of these nine. They were doing what Jesus said to do. And something happened. Something beyond their wildest dreams. They were healed. So they kept on doing what Jesus said do. With joy and excitement they did as Jesus said and ran to the priests so that they could be declared clean. So that they could go home. They did what they understood Jesus had told them to do, and in their doing of it, they were healed.
If there were not the one who came back, I wonder if it would still seem like they were ungrateful. I imagine they were filled with gratitude. I imagine they would tell the story over and over again to anyone who would listen, praising God and thanking Jesus every time. I imagine they would never miss another worship service, never fail to make their ritual sacrifices, never fail to pay their tithes, live all their days in profound gratitude for their second chance.
Of course, I don’t really know that. They may have gone home to still being unwelcome and become bitter. They may have gotten used to begging and become unwilling to work. I don’t’ really know. They may have felt entitled to special treatment because of their miracle or because they’d felt wronged by the community. But isn’t my image of them as forever grateful at least as likely as the one where they ungratefully went on about their lives as usual?
We don’t know whether or not they were grateful. What we know is that they did not return to thank Jesus as the Samaritan did.
Let’s talk about the Samaritan. He’s hanging out with his nine fellow
lepers. They are all banished. Jesus tells them to go into the city
and see the priests. They all go. On the way, they are all healed.
The nine are now clean Jewish men. But this guy – he may not be a leper
anymore, but he is still a Samaritan. He doesn’t have a priest in the
city. Where is he going? When he realizes this, he stops in his
tracks. Where is he going? Before he heads home, to
We’re still like that. When things are working for us, we go on about our lives, possibly grateful, but not really changing the status quo. It’s when things don’t work that it occurs to us to do something different. It is when we have been excluded that we look for new places to be ourselves. And when we find that place where we are welcomed, appreciated, we gratefully offer ourselves in return. It is why some of the most dedicated members here at Oakhurst are persons who, for any number of reasons, previously found themselves not included in churches, who were told they were not welcome as they were to be part of the church. Having found a place where we are loved for who we are, we respond by giving ourselves whole-heartedly. The Samaritan returned praising God and threw himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him.
Jesus seemed to have liked this. I know there are points to be made about how it was the foreigner who expressed his gratitude. Luke liked making it clear Jesus’ message was not just for the Jews. And there are questions to be raised wondering whether it occurred to the others to turn back. On the other hand, as I have said, the nine who didn’t come back were doing what Jesus said to do. You’d expect Jesus to be pleased by this, to be pretty satisfied with this outcome. He may have been. But Jesus was human as well as divine, and I think that like all of us, he probably was glad to be thanked. Even though he was clear to give the credit to God. Jesus was misunderstood a lot and probably it felt good to be appreciated. It would be a very human moment.
Jesus did what he did for these men because of who he was, not in order to be thanked. But given how often he was misunderstood, don’t you imagine it felt good to be thanked? Don’t you like it when your work is noticed and appreciated and someone says so? Don’t you imagine Jesus felt that way at least sometimes?
I think it is significant that the Samaritan thanks Jesus and praises God. And when Jesus describes what he does not see in the others, it is praising God that he mentions, not thanking him. So if the passage is telling us about gratitude toward God as well as toward humans, what is it telling us? We can affirm that it’s good to thank those who help us. And when as children we are learning about gratitude to God, we do name the things for which we are thankful. But as adults is that kind of thanks the best measure of our gratitude
If we thank God for the good stuff that happens to us, does that mean we should also hold God responsible for the bad stuff? Do we believe God is sitting in heaven, or somewhere, deciding arbitrarily “You will get sick, you will not.” “The hurricane will destroy your house, you will be spared.”
This is the age old question of theodicy, that is: how can there be a good and loving God who is all powerful and yet there is evil in the world. Every possible solution to this contradiction contains problems.
Many people get out of the quandary by deciding that there isn’t really evil. “Bad” experiences are to teach us a lesson. God did decide, or maybe just allowed, these things to happen, but it is so we can learn from them. Be corrected, become repentant. Or so something even better can come out of the experience. Therefore, because of these good outcomes, what happened wasn’t really bad. If God is the cause of everything that happens, nothing that happens is really evil because God can only do good. Is our gratitude to be based on believing there is really no evil, just good we do not yet understand?
If we say God is deciding or allowing what will happen, we do away with, or at least minimizes the role of human will. I know there is some debate about how free our will really is, but from my perspective while we may not always be conscious of all the factors that went into our behavior and decisions, we do get to make them and we are responsible for them. Not everything that happens is God’s will. Gratitude has to be about more than thanking God for what happens. It has to be more than relief that what we want to have happen, happened. More than believing what feels terrible is really good for us. There is a monumental difference between saying “God did this for good I do not yet understand” and “God will be with me in this horror helping me, transforming me for my good and the world’s.” The frequently quoted scripture does not say “Give thanks for all things.” It says, “In all things, give thanks.” It is a huge difference.
I think gratitude has to be more like a position we take in relationship to God. I think it has to be about living openly relating to God in constant prayer.
What do I mean by this kind of prayer?
Prayer is not the words we say. Prayer is coming into God’s presence. It is our becoming aware of God. Words are sometimes the means we use. And words are sometimes the way we articulate all our concerns that keep us from being fully present with and aware of God. But the truest form of prayer is when we can embody the commandment: “Be still and know that I am God.” That is our goal: to live our lives in ways that help us increase the percentage of time where our center is still, no matter where we find ourselves or what we are doing or what is going on. And that no matter what else is occurring, we are aware of God present as source, as unconditional love, as boundariless possibility. We are not that, but God who is that, is with us. The more we are able to live with this awareness, the more deeply we are able to know and live God’s love. We come to experience that in God “we live and move and have our being.”
We pray to remember who God is and what God is about. We see or remember how much God loves us and that God is working for healing, reconciliation, transformation, and growth. We see God’s on-going acts of creation, we see God’s work in ourselves and in others, we see God sustaining every one of us, all of creation. When we see this, the natural, automatic response is gratitude. We see who God is and what God is doing and we feel grateful. It is like breathing out and breathing in.
Gratitude like this does not minimize tragedy, does not ignore sadness. It knows that God is present with us, in our sadness, in our fear, in our hurt and anger. It affirms that God does not leave us when tragedy occurs. That God grieves with us. That God’s heart also breaks. And that through it all, God’s love does not fail. We all have known people who face more than we can imagine bearing and who nonetheless by the way they live demonstrate that they know they are held by God’s love. It does not make it okay. It does not take away the pain or the difficulty. But it does somehow change the possibilities of how one might survive and what else one might do while one is grieving. That kind of trust is gratitude.
How do we develop that kind of trust? It can only come from time spent in God’s presence. It can only come from experiencing how deeply God loves us. How God has built love for us into the fabric of the Universe. We bring to God our prayers of confession and prayers of lament to identify where we are broken, distracted, angry, what still needs healing in us. Prayers of praise sharpen our attention to the on-going creative and redemptive energy of God. Prayers of intercession become a discipline of developing trust in God, whatever might happen, of learning to have that kind of gratitude toward God.
Larry Dossey, a medical doctor who writes about research on prayer and healing, says that there is enough evidence that patients who are prayed for by their doctors do better than those who aren’t, that it is malpractice for doctors not to pray for their patients. He also says that prayer can sometimes inadvertently work against people if the one praying has an agenda not really in the best interest of the one being prayed for. He says, therefore, that the best prayer is always, “Thy will be done.”
Praying like this is not an easy exercise. If you commit to praying “Thy Will Be Done” on a regular basis, I guarantee that all your issues about trust in God, all your issues of control, all your desire to know what’s right, every question you have about whether you are also God’s beloved, and what difference it makes anyway, will surface. But guess what. Those things are the very parts of you that need healing. Those questions and struggles, brought into God’s presence, will be resolved. If you pray this prayer, God’s will will be done. And as that happens, naturally, spontaneously, you will be filled to overflowing with gratitude.
In a way, it could be said that the ten lepers by their behavior were saying “Thy will be done.” No promises had been made, nothing appeared to have changed, they did not know what would happen, yet they gave themselves to the process. It was their trusting engagement of that process that led to their healing.
There is a theory of dream interpretation that says you are every character in your dream. If we lived a life of prayer and gratitude, might we become every character in this Gospel story? The ones who cry out honestly asking for help when we are in pain. The ones who respond to pain out of who we are as best we can. The ones who move in faith even when there is not evidence anything is happening. The ones who let go of what has happened previously and let themselves be healed. The ones who return and do what is necessary to be restored to our own families and communities and our faith. The ones who bless that effort and assist and welcome those who are returning – pronouncing them beloved by God. The ones who feel excluded but turn anyway in gratitude to God and look for ways to live that show that gratitude. The ones who hear the testimony of others and receive those persons’s gratitude, grateful for our own connection to God that makes everything possible.
Amen
Prayer for the World
We come to you today on behalf of the world you have created and love, and pray: Thy Will Be Done.
We think of all
the places today where there is war and people are fighting and caught by war,
especially
We think of the upcoming elections in this country. Of men and women willing to give of themselves and their resources to govern and serve on our behalf Of persons of good faith who hold differing positions and opinions as to what is best. Of those on either side who may be more motivated by winning or self-interest than the greater good. Of the impact that will be felt around the world because of the decisions we make. And we pray: Thy Will Be Done.
We remember those throughout the world who this day do not have what they need: safety, shelter, food, health, work, meaning, understanding, love. We think of them with compassion and pray: Thy Will Be Done.
We think of those who are imagining a better world. Those who work for peace and justice, those who design and engineer solutions to life’s complexities. Those who research cures for diseases, who envision healthier living. Scientists who explore earth and space and everything in between. Those who create art and literature and music and laughter. We hold them in your light and we pray: Thy Will Be Done.
Finally we pray for ourselves. What we have done and what we have not done. What we know and what we no not know. Where we have failed and where we have achieved. Where we hurt and where we rejoice. Where we love with open arms and where we withdraw in pain and fear. We bring ourselves, as much of our whole selves as we can, to you. And we ask for gratitude, whatever my come. And we pray: Thy Will Be Done.