In today’s Gospel lesson, the
journey of Jesus takes him through a strange region. This is the region between
Galilee and Samaria—the demarcation point between two peoples who are connected
but at the same time distant, two peoples who celebrate a common history but
who view each other with suspicion and animosity. As we know from other gospel
texts, the division between Jews and Samaritans was sharp, and the division
centered around a disagreement concerning origins. The Samaritans claimed status as true Israelites—as descendants
of the ten northern tribes who
were scattered by Assyrian conquerors in the seventh century. They professed to
worship the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in truth, and followed Mosaic Law.
The Judeans disagreed, regarding the Samaritans as the descendents of the
Assyrian conquerors who destroyed the Northern Kingdom in the eight century.
They were more or less regarded by Jews as “wannabees”, outside the covenant God had made with Israel—not true
descendants of Jacob.
It was along this cultural and religious
border Jesus moved as he made his way south. And as he does he encounters
another group of people, who represented another distinct category—these were
the leapers.
Now,
the biblical disorder called “leprosy” was not the same as the modern skin
disease known as “leprosy”.
Rather, it was a condition
marked by skin discoloration. Law required that lepers be separated
not for medical reasons, but for religious reasons. Biblical Leapers were regarded
not as quarenteened medical patients, but as ritually unclean. Levitical Law
required that Priests diagnose leapers as unclean and to be exiled from the
community. Preists were also entrusted with the task of determining whether
they were“clean”, and ready to return to the community. This pronouncement by a
priest would be the ticket back to community, to livelihood, and to friends.
And though Jews and Samaritans were separated by this massive cultural gulf,
they both held this law of exclusion in common. Lepers were on the outside. Locked out of regular life and
society, they moved in groups, remained near urban centres, and begged for a
living.
It
was just such a group that approached Jesus as he entered a village. The text
does not tell us exactly what it was that drew these lepers to Jesus. Perhaps
they were so lonely and desperate they sought help any way they could from
anyone they could. But perhaps
they, like many others, knew who Jesus was right away—and the gifts he had for
them. “Jesus, master, have mercy on us!” This
was a cry for mercy, was a cry for compassion, a cry for change, a cry for
healing, a cry for a return to life and family. “Jesus, master, have mercy on
us!” Hearing these words, Jesus told the ten to do the only thing that would
restore their lives, and bring about a fundamental healing in relationship—this
was the pronouncement of cleanliness by a priest. Not surprisingly, they didn’t waste any time moving. And as
they went, they were made clean. But one of them stopped. The one who stopped
was the Samaritan amongst them. The text doesn’t tell us exactly why he
stopped. It was the case that his journey would be much longer than the other
ten. The Samaritan would have to travel to the ritual centre on Mount Garizim
to be pronounced clean by a Samaritan priest. Maybe, this journey would not be
possible, and this caused him to pause. We don’t know.But we do know one thing.
We know that his heart was filled with Thanksgiving. Seeing that he was healed,
he threw himself down at the feet of Jesus, at the feet of this Jewish Rabbi . It was the foreigner who turned out to be the thankful
onel. Within this
unexpected, unprescribed encounter, emerged this tremendous moment of
Thanksgiving. How startling, how wonderful, this moment must have been for this
outsider and outcast.
But
we know from today’s Old Testament reading that this was not the first time a
healing of leprosy was the cause for great and tremendous thanksgiving.
Hundreds of years before the gospel lesson we read today, we hear the tale of another
foreigner who receives remarkable healing. This time it is a powerful Syrian
General, Naaman, an enemy of Israel, a man determined to bring down the
descendants of Jacob, a man who has kidnapped a young Israelite girl and made
him his wife.
This
powerful general also happened to be a leaper. And his Israelite wife knew
where the cure was to be found—it was to be found within the heart of Israel,
with the great Prophet, Elisha. When the King of Israel finds out about this
proposal, his reaction is what you might expect. It would have made as much
sense as inviting a burgler who has been staking your house inside for a warm
meal. But Elisha saw things differently, Elisha saw the tremendous potential in
this healing. So the day came when Naaman arrived at Elisha’s door, and the
prophet gave him some very simple instructions: wash in the river Jordan seven times. His response is not all that
positive. “What, do I really have to?” “ Couldn’t it be easier than that?” “Go
down to the Jordan, the river in Israel?” “ Couldn’t I wash in the rivers of
Demascus?” Not surprisingly, he refused. But his servants convinced him, with
the basic argument that things could be a whole lot worse. So he does it. He goes down to the
river. He immerses himself. Seven times he washes himself, and he is
cured. And just like that leaper
whom Jesus will cure hundreds of years later his response is of pure,
unabashed, and total Thanksgiving. And in both cases, what follows that Thanksgiving,
what flows from this gratitude, is faith. In both cases, foreigners, outsiders,
came to recognize the workings of the one true God. And it came through God’s
mercy and God’s grace.
Things
could have been different. Jesus could have rebuked the Samaritan leaper, and sent him on his
way, refused to have anything to do with him. God could have given the
Isrealite King the power to destroy Naaman. But this was not what God chose to
do. God instead chose to reach out through mercy and love, and through that
testified to who he is.
Today’s
readings testify to the wideness and surprising nature of God’s mercy and
grace; testifies to a God who does not stop working to effect healing and
wholeness, to a God who delights in hearing our Thanksgiving. The Psalmist
tells us that, “ The Fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom”. Here fear
does not refer to being afraid, but rather to an experience of God’s
awesomeness. And God’s awesomeness is revealed most completely in the mercy and
Grace of God, through the Christ who draws all humanity to himself. And that work of extension and healing
continues. The Word of God, as the Apostle tells us, is not chained. It works through barriers and effects
thanksgiving and faith, in ways which are mysterious, subtle, and beyond all
attempts of the human intellect to contain it. It transcends boundaries that
divide, and brings healing and wholeness to those regarded as outsiders. The
message we need to grasp hold of is the message which runs through all the
readings this morning that God is on a mission of healing, and the appropriate
response to that healing is Thanksgiving. Herein lies the tremendous exuberance
expressed in today’s psalm. The writer gets it—the writer gets what God’s
mission to the world is really all about. And when he gets it, he can do
nothing other than proclaim Thanksgiving with all of his heart.
Today
this country, this nation, celebrates Thanksgiving. But a moment’s reflection
reveals that theme of Thanksgiving runs through this entire worship service. We
gave thanks for Baptism, we give thanks through prayers of intercession, we
sang and sing thanks with hymns. In a moment we will sing the great
Thanksgiving for God’s great gift to the world, given through Christ Jesus.
I would
invite you to pay special attention to those words which say, “ it is indeed
right, our duty, and our joy, that we should at all times and in all places
give thanks and praise to you almighty and merciful God”. There is indeed
always something to be thankful for, even when all seems dark and hopeless. Somewhere,
there will be something. Somewhere
God will be extending his hand of mercy and healing. If you cannot see it pray
for eyes that can, and these gifts will be shown to you.
This
Sunday we honour a special gift which has been given to this congregation—the
gift of stained glass windows. And we give thanks for them. We thank God for
working through the donors who sponsored them, and the artist who crafted them.
May they serve as a constant reminder of God’s great love, which shines in our
hearts, which shines through the darkness. As you look at them in the coming weeks, months, and years,
remember this day of Thanksgiving. And may the theme of this day fill your
everyday, remembering always and everywhere God’s mercy and love. Amen.
