Why do you and I give? Do we give out of obligation, because God
tells us to? Do we give out of guilt or
because it makes us feel good or because we love this church? The Bible tells us its gratitude. We give because we are grateful. That’s where this comes in. As with a lot of Bible
stories, at least the ones we have heard many times before, we actually don’t
hear them anymore. They get too familiar. But every now and then, someone will tell a
familiar Bible story in a way where you almost hear it for the first time. And you don’t simply see the story; you see
your whole life in a new way. A preacher
named Steve Eason did that for me as he spoke on this passage: Luke 17:11-19,
and I share his incredible take on this story.
In this story, ten lepers get healed, but only one
comes back? What happened to the
nine? Jesus asks. Weren’t they grateful? More importantly, who is this guy? Who is this one grateful leper? We don’t know his name. Luke doesn’t tell us anything about him. So what follows is not true, but it could
be.
We’ll call him Eli.
Now Eli was born in the region of Samaria. That’s north of Jerusalem, and east of the
Sea of Galilee. It’s not big, about 45
miles long and 35 miles wide. Eli grew
up in this hilly country knowing this.
Jews and Samaritans hate each other.
They’ve hated each other since probably 780 B.C. That’s a lotta hate, hundreds of years of
hate. When Jesus tells the Good
Samaritan story, and he makes the hero be a good Samaritan, that’s a joke to a
Jew. There is no such thing as a good
Samaritan. Eli remembers his
grandfather telling the stores of Jews and Samaritans, how the Jews saw the
Samaritans as traitors and imposters, a race of half-breeds with a half-breed
religion to go with it, but who claimed to be the rightful heirs to Israel’s
religion, people who had tried to steal the covenant from Israel. Now the Samaritans had a different
story. They saw themselves as cousins
to the Jews. And they should be treated
with respect. They should have all the
full rights that the Israelites have.
So Eli grew up a Samaritan, yet he learned the
Jewish Torah. He went to synagogue. He celebrated Passover and Pentecost, all the
holy days. He observed the
Sabbath. He grew up in a devout
family. He got his education down south
in Jerusalem, and came back to Samaria to work as a merchant. He got married to a beautiful woman named
Rachel. They have two boys, Jacob and
Ezra, seven and nine. Eli had a good
life.
One day, he was at work. And
Eli noticed a small, scaly, rough patch on his right arm. Throughout the day, it began to itch. That night, he put some cream on it. And the next day, there were more
patches. After several days, he finally
went to see his doctor. That’s when
things changed. He saw the doctor’s
concern. And he heard the carefully
chosen words. Eli, I think you need to
go see the priest. The priest? You only go to see the priest if you possibly
have leprosy. “Yes, I have itchy
patches but leprosy? How did I get that?”
The next day Eli and Rachel go to see the
priest. And the news wasn’t good. He placed Eli in confinement for seven days
as required by law. And on the 7th
day, the priest came back and examined him.
Eli had swelling in his skin that turned his hair white, and in the
swelling was raw flesh. The disease had
spread to his head, his back, to his chest, and parts of his legs. According to the law written there in
Leviticus, the priest said the painful words.
“You are unclean. You must now
live outside the camp.” Wait a minute,
I’m a businessman. I’m educated. I’m married.
I have two boys. They all depend
on me. This cannot be happening.
Rachel asked, even though she knew the answer. “Is there a cure?” And the priest said, “Rachel, no, there is
no cure. I’m sorry” In an instant,
their lives were crushed. Eli did not
go home with Rachel. He would not sleep
in his bed. He would not hold his
boys. He would not eat at his
table. Everything he touched from now
on would be unclean. By law, in
Leviticus, he would have to wear torn and tattered clothes so you could
identify him as a leper. He could not
groom his hair. And in public, when he
spoke, he would have to cover his lips.
When others approached him, by law, he must cry out. Unclean, Unclean! In other words, don’t come near me.
He smelled stench all day. He ate what little food was available. Nobody touched him. He lived void of any human touch. He couldn’t help but wonder as you might. What sin have I done that God would punish me
like this? What have I done to deserve
this? He thought about killing himself,
as I would. But he couldn’t do it. He held out a crazy hope that one day he
might get better.
One day he and nine other lepers were in the village
begging for money. They heard how this
carpenter named Jesus who claimed to be the Messiah was going to pass by. They had heard about this Jesus. They had head how he had healed the sick,
even once cleaned a leper. That got
their attention. He had caused a
paralyzed man to get up from his mat and actually walk. They had heard the story of how this Jesus
had raised a widow’s son from the dead.
They had heard how he had walked on water and calmed a storm. He had cast demons out of a man who was
naked and in chains and living in a cemetery because the community had no idea
what else to do with him. But Jesus had freed him and restored him to
his right mind. If they could get this man’s attention, maybe he
would do for him what he had done for others. Eli thought. If I could just get Jesus’ attention, would he
touch my life?
Jews would not even walk through Samaria. They would walk around that 35 mile strip of
land to get to Jerusalem. They would not
even walk on Samaritan soil. I’ve got to
really hate you to not drive by your house ever. So Jesus is abiding by that tradition, and
skirting the border of Samaria. So he
comes to this village right on that border.
Eli and his friends have gathered with the rest of the crowd on the main
road. They have sat there all morning
waiting for Jesus to come. The word
comes. Jesus is coming! Everyone stood up. And the lepers did too, standing far off,
covering their lips, bowing their heads, but their eyes searching for Jesus in
the crowd. Finally, they see him. Eli’s
heart is racing. He can hardly
breathe. The lepers begin to cry
out. “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!” They do it over and over again. They beg for Jesus’ attention. And Jesus sees them.
No one sees a leper. Nobody looks at them. But Jesus did. Out of that whole crowd, Jesus paid
attention to the lowest of the low. And just as quickly as that rash came on his
arm, Eli’s life is about to change again.
Jesus is walking there in the midst of his disciples, in the midst of
the crowds surrounding him. He is going
to Jerusalem to die, though no one knows that.
And in the midst of that, he sees this ratty band of lepers in rags,
crying out to him. And he looks out at
them and throws this out. “Go show
yourselves to the priests.” And the lepers go, “What? What did he say? Did he tell us to go show
ourselves to the priests?” The only
reason a leper goes to show himself to the priest is if he thinks that he is
cured. But they don’t look seem cured? Go show yourselves to the priest?
What would you do?
I’d go and show myself to the priest.
And they did. Now, if you’re a leper, you can hardly walk. Your joints are frozen. Your toes are gone, most of your
fingers. So they are hobbling to the
synagogue. And on the way, their
leprosy falls off. All the stench of my
life in the dust. The foul order of who
I am, the stiffness, the rigidity, the disease I carry with me. It’s in the dust. Go show yourselves to the priest. Because the priest has to say the words. You are clean. Just go do that. And they begin to run. But lepers can’t run. But they are no longer lepers are they? All ten of them are healed, but Eli
stops. It makes sense why the other nine don’t
stop. If I had leprosy and somebody
healed me, I’d run to the priest before it came back. But what about this guy who stops and turns
and says, “I have to go thank him. I’ll
get to the priest, but this man has given me my life back. I get
to go home to Rachel and my boys, to sleep in my bed; to take a bath; to eat at
my table. This man has done that for
me. I may never see him again. I will not miss that opportunity.” What about that guy>
Luke tells us that he comes back praising God with a
loud voice. If Christ has touched our
lives, sometimes we’ve gotta getta a little loud and out of order. That’s why
Luke gives us this information about the loud voice. It’s important. Then Luke adds one last tidbit. This man was a Samaritan. In other words, everything was wrong about
this man. He was a Samaritan. Everybody hates them. He was a leper. No one wants to touch them. And here he is laying down in the main road
before God and everybody, speechless, prostrate before Jesus’ feet. And that is the proper position in
life.
Whatever Eli does after he gets up is
gratitude. I’m not just talking about
giving. I’m talking about everything,
money, life, talents, marriage, children, business, career, everything. You think that guy went home and left a
selfish life? No way. I know he’s made up. But no way could he do it. No way.
He went home and he lived a grateful life. Everything about him was grateful. He never took anything else for granted
again. He never looked at a leper in the
same way again. He was changed. And Jesus did that.
Now we may never have leprosy. In fact, we won’t. But
every person in this room, every person in this city, is unclean. All of us need healing. All of us need to be touched somewhere because
of something in us that is alienated from God, that is broken and sick, that
needs to be healed, something that keeps us from the table; something that keeps
us from really being home; something in us that is like leprosy. Many of us will never experience this sort
of instantaneous, miraculous healing but every one of us were instantaneously
healed at the cross and the resurrection of Jesus. Jesus has given our lives back. There is only one motive for being a
Christian. It’s not duty, and it’s sure
not guilt. It’s gratitude. That’s your life. Gratitude is everything you are. It’s gratitude for this grace that has stopped
on the main road for you, for you. Gratitude.
Go show yourselves to the priests.
You are healed.
