Bible Text:

“Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice. He prostrated himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked Him. And he was a Samaritan. Then Jesus asked, ‘Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they?’”                          (Luke 17:15-17)

Do you know this story—the story of ten lepers who were healed all at one time by Jesus? There are various healings of lepers in the New Testament. Most of them are one at a time. There is even a story about Jesus eating in the home of someone known as “Simon the leper.” This story, however, is unique. It is the group healing of ten men at one time. 

Leprosy was a dreadful and ugly disease. Because there was so much unknown about it, people were quarantined and had major restrictions when they contracted leprosy. They were required to keep their distance. Some scholars estimate that the distance was required to be 50 yards. That’s a long way. Nobody knew whether it was contagious, but it might be. 

These ten lepers had probably been together for 5 or 6 years. They moved around as one small community. They became family for each other because they were separated from their real family. They were not allowed near anyone—not their spouse, their children, their siblings—not anyone. 

Perhaps they had heard of Jesus. Possibly they even heard of his healing power. But they had not met him until today. 

As the story unfolds, the lepers see Jesus teaching somewhere. They cry out to him, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!” Jesus hears their cry. He comes over to them (which he was really not supposed to do). He has compassion on them and says to them simply, “Go and show yourselves to the priest.” This was a ritual requirement. The priest needed to inspect a leper to make sure that he or she no longer had the disease. 

As Luke tells the story, while they were walking toward the temple to meet with the priest they were made well. Fingers began to look normal again. Toes began to look normal on their feet. Facial skin began to have its healthy color. The leprosy was gone. 

One man (a Samaritan) turns and heads back toward Jesus. It is worth noting that the Samaritan would probably not be welcome in the Temple anyway. Samaritans were never welcome. He returns to Jesus and gives profound and profuse thanks. His body language says over and over again, “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” 

This man is more than just cured. He has a feeling of health and wholeness that he has never before experienced. That’s what Jesus does for us. Ten lepers are healed. One is really made totally well. 

Jesus acknowledges his appreciation. Then he says, “Were not ten lepers healed? Where are the other nine?” 

Do you know this story? Have you ever wondered about the answer to Jesus’ question? Have you ever speculated upon those other nine lepers? Maybe not. So I’m going to tell you. (Aren’t you glad you came today!) Walk through the list with me. Let’s look at the nine other lepers. See if you see yourself anyplace among them. 

The first leper was frightened. He was simply terrified. He had spent 5 years in isolation. His physical health had been in deterioration for those same 5 years. Suddenly he’s well. Suddenly he’s whole again. 

For years he had prayed. He had implored God to heal him. He had spent hours on his knees. Nothing ever happened. Five years and nothing. He had no real expectation that it ever would. 

Today, suddenly, he is well. He’s not made well gradually; he’s made well instantly. For years nothing had happened. Today he is suddenly well. Jesus scared him. 

He ran away from the group. He hid just inside a small cave. His whole body was trembling. Can you feel his fear? Can you sense how frightened he was? The first leper did not return because he was scared. 

The second leper was offended. Can you understand how that might happen? This healing was too easy. This man believed that you had to earn God’s love, God’s grace, and God’s goodness. 

“Go and show yourself to the priest?” That’s not enough. Surely there must be some fasting, some prayers, some penance that would be required. It cannot be this simple. God’s goodness may come, but it comes slowly over a long period. It does not happen instantly, not this way. You have to earn this. 

This leper is simply not in tune with Jesus’ message of grace. He has never sung the hymn, “Amazing grace… that saves a wretch like me.” He never heard of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who warned 20th century Christians about something called “cheap grace.” As far as this leper was concerned, he had experienced cheap grace. It was way too cheap, and so he was offended and he did not return to say “thank you.” 

The third leper was angry. He was angry with Jesus. He suddenly realized he did not want to be well. He liked being sick. His sickness brought him attention heretofore unknown. 

As a child and a young adult, he had been a loner. He had very few friends. He had no close friends. He was isolated, picked on by the other kids. They poked fun at him. He stayed in his room a lot (playing video games and watching TV—maybe not!). He seldom was with anybody else. 

Now, as a leper, he had friends. And they liked him. They took care of him. In fact, they all took care of each other. And suddenly it was all gone. This leper discovered he needed to be sick in order to be happy. He was a little surprised at his reaction, but he felt it immediately. Leprosy gave him companionship. Leprosy gave him attention. Jesus took it away. The third leper did not return because he was angry. 

The fourth leper simply wanted to wait and see if it was real. Was it temporary? Would it last? Was this a short-term remission that would return someday, maybe soon? 

Sometimes, of course, that does happen. Pain is gone. The scans are good. The medication is decreased. And the doctor says, “I want to see you in six months.”

 And you wonder. Is this real? Will the cancer return? Will the pain come back? It’s too early to say “thank you” to God. It’s too early to write the Prayer Team and give them thanks for their prayers. 

Have you ever hesitated to pray a prayer of thanks because you thought it was too early? Have you ever neglected to say “thank you” for any or every good day in your life? 

The fourth leper was almost afraid to believe that the healing might be real. He didn’t go back because he wanted to wait a while. 

The fifth leper did not return because he didn’t believe. It did not happen. It could not happen. This kind of thing just does not happen. Maybe it wasn’t leprosy after all. Maybe there’s some kind of extreme skin infection or a wound that would not heal. “That’s it,” he thought to himself. “I never really had leprosy at all. It was really something else.”

 This man had a hard, analytical mind. Everything had logical, rational, intelligent explanation. 

Did you see the news article a week or so ago about a woman who announced that she had been cured of cancer by her prayers to Mother Teresa? Her husband mocked her and said it did not happen. He said the treatments did it. There was no miracle here. 

I had a woman in my student charge in seminary who wanted me to talk to her husband about becoming a believer. I spent an afternoon in their home one Saturday. He had that same kind of analytical mind. He simply could not accept the kinds of things that happened in the New Testament stories. Miracles just do not happen. 

The fifth leper did not believe in miracles. He didn’t believe in magic. He didn’t go back and say “thank you” to Jesus because it didn’t happen. 

The sixth leper decided he probably would have gotten well anyway. In fact, he thought he had already been feeling much better before they met Jesus that day. Earlier that day he started to feel better. He decided he was already very much improved. He had been eating the right foods, doing the right kind of exercise, spending time in meditation. 

He did it on his own. He was made well on his own. Jesus had nothing to do with it. 

The seventh leper decided he would go back and say “thank you” later. He had a life to which to return. He had missed out on so much. He needed to get back to his work and his family and his routine. He had a customer base that needed to be rebuilt. 

Jesus would be around for a while. He’d thank him later. He was a procrastinator. He’d put it off. He thought to himself, “I’ll get a note off to Jesus next week sometime.” 

Have you ever done that? One of the things I’ve learned about my own patterns is this: if I’m going to write a note of thanks to someone, I need to do it right away. If I postpone it, many times I will forget. The seventh leper did not return to give thanks because he said, “I’ll do it later.” 

The eighth leper forgot. He simply forgot. He did pause for a moment and say a brief prayer of thanks to the Lord as he headed for the Temple, but he forgot to go back to Jesus. 

The ninth leper bolted for home. Five years he had been separated from his family. Five years he had watched his children grow up at a distance. Five years he had been separated from the nurture and the embrace of those whom he loved. Five years he had lived in isolated agony. 

He thought about going back to Jesus. He really did. But when he realized he was well, he bolted for home. Like a wild animal released from a cage, he was driven back into the arms of a family who deeply loved him and whom he deeply loved.

 Can you see him racing down the road, arms waving wildly, leaping into the air? When I was a child my father used to have the ability to leap up into the air and click his heels together several times in a row. He would do it regularly in front of my sisters and me to embarrass us in public. 

That’s the way this leper was. People gave him strange looks. He didn’t care. He did not return to say “thank you” because he was racing for home. 

What do you think about those excuses? Do you see yourself in any of them? I think I see myself.

 And how do you think Jesus felt? Was Jesus angry? Was he disappointed? Was he judgmental? I doubt it. I think Jesus understood. 

I think Jesus understands when we doubt, or when we forget, or when we neglect. He wants our thanksgiving. Thanksgiving has a healing value in itself. But God does not touch our lives in order to hear us say “thank you.” God knows that sometimes we forget or doubt or are skeptical. God knows that sometimes we are even offended. We take a “wait and see” attitude. And God loves us anyway. God loves you anyway. 

Jesus reaches out and touches your life regularly, and mine. A good night’s sleep, an unexpected voice of a distant friend on the phone, an especially enjoyable meal, a winning smile from a new grandson. Jesus does not demand that we give an immediate “thank you.” He says, “It’s okay. I forgive you.” And frankly, for that, I for one am very grateful.

[1]  This message is based on a story by Martin Bell in a book entitled The Way of the Wolf: The Gospel in New Images, pub. 1968, Balentine Books