A couple of Sundays ago I was sitting in church. The gospel included the story of the ten lepers who cried out Jesus for healing. Jesus told them to go and show themselves to the priests. Along the way, there bodies were healed. One, a Samaritan, returned to Jesus and gave thanks, the others continued on their way.
The pastor is just starting his sermon. He's decided to focus on gratitude and showing thanks. I hang with him until he throws in something about just praying to God, receiving healing, and giving thanks. I know from experience that we don't always get the instant result the lepers realized. When preachers start down that path, I tend to stop listening.
Instead, I decide to use the time to contemplate other aspects of the story. I wonder if those ten lepers were the entire colony or if there were others who didn't cry out to Jesus and if they were therefore left with their sores. I wonder if the ten who cried out really believed Jesus could heal them or if they were just desperately hoping he could. Given how ostracized and miserable these people were, wouldn't they cry out to anyone who might possibly be able to help them, no matter how remote the chance?
My mind drifts to the nine who did not return to give thanks. They hadn't really done anything wrong. In fact, they did exactly what Jesus instructed. Perhaps, they were afraid to break ranks and return to Jesus to give thanks. Their sores had mysteriously disappeared. They could just as easily reappear. I wonder if they tried to stop the Samaritan when he turned back toward Jesus, afraid that his action would doom them all. Until they saw the priests and were declared clean, they were still outcasts. I can understand their desire to get there as quickly as possible. Maybe the Samaritan, being a Samaritan, cared less about the priests, I don't know. I wonder about the times we follow orders and fear keeps us from breaking ranks and doing what we know we should. I think about war criminals and the soldiers whose only defense is that they were just following orders.
My mind focuses back on the pulpit as the pastor wraps up his message. Be grateful. I can do that.
