Sunday, October 13, 2013

Faithful Living, Grateful Living

Faithful Living, Grateful Living
Luke 17:11-19
October 13, 2013[1]

This morning, we continue to journey with the Gospel of Luke as Luke describes Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem.  You may remember that last week, we spoke about stepping forward in faith and identified it as the key to being able to forgive those who have hurt us.  Today, we look at how stepping forward in faith leads to wellness, to wholeness, and how that wholeness is reflected in our gratitude.
We often give a simplistic interpretation of this story.  Ten lepers were healed; one returned to say “thank you.”  Is the moral of the story simply that we should mind your manners and say “please” and “thank you?”  Those words certainly are good things to say; but if that is all we draw from this story, we might as well learn it from our mothers, our kindergarten teachers or from “Miss Manners.”  We don’t need to take up Jesus’ time for that lesson.
There is a much deeper lesson here.  The leper who returned to say “thank you” demonstrated a thanksgiving that went far beyond good manners.
We can draw the inference from the story that all ten of the lepers knew and obeyed the Jewish law--even the one who was a foreigner, a Samaritan.  How can we draw this inference?  All knew, during the time of their infliction, that they were banished from society in accordance with the Levitical law: 
The person who has the leprous disease shall wear torn clothes and let the hair of his head be disheveled; and he shall cover his upper lip and cry out, “Unclean, unclean.”  He shall remain unclean as long as he has the disease; he is unclean.  He shall live alone; his dwelling shall be outside the camp.  (Leviticus 13:45-46).
Further, all ten understood very well the instruction that Jesus gave to them—to go show themselves to the priests.  The Levitical law was just as strict, if not more so, about the procedures to be followed when the lepers were cured from their disease.  The law established an elaborate process for washing both the body and the clothing of the healed person, as well as a requirement for a sin offering and guilt offering for the one to be cleansed.  You can read these very detailed instructions in Leviticus 14:1-32.
There were ten who were healed and told to report to the priest.  It is possible that the nine were from Judea and had to travel to Jerusalem to see the priest.  The Samaritan would have to go to Mt. Gerizim in Samaria.[2]  This one, who knew all his life what it meant to be separated, was the one who would return to Jesus and would lie down prostrate before him, to praise God and to give thanks.  He was the one who could recognize the source of his healing.  He was the one who could recognize that healing meant more than a mere physical cure; it meant that he was restored to new life.  He would not only comply with the letter of the law; he would give thanks and praise to the God who touched him and made him whole. 
It might not jump out at you, but there is an interesting ambiguity built into the scripture.  In verse19, where Jesus says “your faith has made you well,” the Greek word that Jesus uses can be translated three different ways:  to be healed; to be made whole; to be saved.  Is it possible that Jesus was telling this Man that his faith transformed his life?  Could it be that the act of listening to the instruction of Jesus, turning to go to the priest, discovering that he has been a changed man on the outside led to him being changed on the inside?
As we discussed last week, the step of faith—the step out into the unknown, the step of relying totally on God—is one of the hardest steps to take.  It is a step of trust, even when the evidence seems totally against us.  It is a step that changes the way we see the world.  It is a step that can lead us to be forgiven people.  It is a step that can help us become forgiving people.  And it is a step that can transform us into grateful people.
What does it mean to become a grateful person?  Does it mean that we deny reality as we look at life through rose-colored glasses?  No.
Does it mean that we adopt an optimistic overview of the world expressed by Alexander Pope that “whatever is, is right”?[3]  No.
Does it mean that we deny our pain and pretend that it doesn’t exist, hoping that if we ignore it, it will go away?  No.
Does it mean that we engage in the “Power of Positive Thinking,”[4] and see the world differently?  No.
Does it mean that if we learn to step forward in faith that bad things won’t happen to us?  No!  Even the Apostle Paul prayed three times for healing, for a “thorn in the flesh” to be removed, but it was not (2 Corinthians 12:7). 
So does it mean that we give thanks for the good things that happen and simply put up with the bad things that happen?  That’s not quite it, either. 
Living a life of gratitude means that we live trusting that we are in God’s hands.  The Apostle Paul was not healed from the “thorn” in his flesh, but he received instead an assurance from God “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness" (2 Corinthians 12:9, NIV).  In the words of an old hymn, we remember that “though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet.  This is my Father’s world …”[5]
Last Sunday evening, Laurie Baker asked me to give a “short version” of last week’s sermon to the youth who were not present to hear it.  I recapped as best I could what I have learned about faith—that it isn’t something we possess or something that we can measure or quantify; it is something that we do.  When we trust, we get better at trusting.  One of the youth asked me if faith was like a muscle—the more you use it, the bigger it gets.  I have thought about her question quite a bit this week.  I think that she is close to getting it, but I think another analogy might be better.  I don’t think that it is a matter of size.  I think of it more as a matter of practice.  Think about someone learning to play an instrument.  When someone learns to play the piano, they don’t begin by playing Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto No. 1; they begin with something that sounds more like “Three Blind Mice.”  They practice and practice and practice.  They make mistakes.  They practice some more.  They take lessons.  They study with a teacher who has lived through the same mistakes that they are making.  Over time, the talent that God has given them develops.  It doesn’t become larger in a way that you can measure; but the budding pianists become more capable of demonstrating the talent that they have.  If they didn’t practice, they would remain stuck forever playing “Three Blind Mice.”
So it is in faith.  If it is true that faith is a verb, if faith is something we do—then it must be that through practice, our ability to trust increases.  If faith is a way of seeing what cannot be seen, then how, in the words of the Apostles last week, how do we increase our faith?  We increase our faith by exercising the faith that we have—not to make it bigger, but to make it stronger.  Yet even here, we find out quickly that we cannot do it by ourselves.  So we join those disciples in pleading “increase our faith.”  One of the key ways that we practice our faith is through gratitude—recognizing that it is God’s grace that has brought us safe thus far, and grace will lead us home.[6]  We remember, and then we trust some more.
In a few moments, we will celebrate Holy Communion, the sacrament of the church which sometimes is called the “Eucharist.”  The word “Eucharist” comes from the Greek, and means “Great Thanksgiving.”  That is the name by which we identify the sacrament in our bulletins; but I like to think of it as “Sacred Remembering.”  Did you ever notice how much of the prayer in our Holy Communion liturgy is a prayer of thanksgiving? 
Lift up your hearts.  Let us give thanks to the Lord our God.  It is right, and a good and joyful thing, always and everywhere to give thanks to you, Almighty God, creator of heaven and earth.[7]
We remember, and we give thanks for God’s acts of creation, re-creation and salvation. 
This week, as you come to the Table, I invite you to engage in some sacred remembering of your own.  Remember:  what has God done in your life?  Remember how God has accompanied you through the tough places in life.  Remember who you are as a child of God.  Remember, and be thankful.
May it be so!
Copyright © 2013 by Thomas E. Frost.  All rights reserved.



[1] Preached at Cunningham United Methodist Church in Palmyra, Virginia.
[2] Amy-Jill Levine, “Notes, The Gospel According to Luke” in Amy-Jill Levine and Marc Zvi Brettler, eds., The Jewish Annotated New Testament:  New Revised Standard Version Bible Translation (New York:  Oxford University Press, 2011), 136.
[3] Alexander Pope, “An Essay on Man,” viewed on the internet on October 13, 2013 at https://notes.utk.edu/bio/greenberg.nsf/11b7b90a9fa8e19585256c76000ed30a/a41ea6f017abe5b485256db100676048?OpenDocument.
[4] Norman Vincent Peale, The Power of Positive Thinking (New York:  Fireside, 1980).
[5] Maltbie D. Babcock, “This Is My Father’s World,” in The United Methodist Hymnal (Nashville, TN:  The United Methodist Publishing House, 1989), 144.
[6] John Newton, “Amazing Grace,” in The United Methodist Hymnal, (Nashville, TN:  The United Methodist Publishing House, 1989), 378.
[7] “A Service of Word and Table II” The United Methodist Hymnal (Nashville, TN:  The United Methodist Publishing House, 1989), 13.

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