10 lepers in the borderlands between Samaria and Galilee, some Samaritans, some Jews. They are a multi-cultural and interfaith group—brought together, not by some high ideal or because some preacher has pumped them up about loving their neighbor—but because they are joined in their suffering and isolation.
Perhaps these boundaries between Samaritan and Galilean were broken on account of their affliction…
think of that famed picture after 9/11 of people covered in debris, in the midst of that tragedy those common borders between them were dissolved.
think of that famed picture after 9/11 of people covered in debris, in the midst of that tragedy those common borders between them were dissolved.
Or… I think of going down to Florida a few years back to the Adult Congenital Heart Association (ACHA) meeting. The only thing anyone had in common was we’d survived our heart conditions into adulthood… and yet that was such a bond, we understood one another and our common experiences…
as I am sure is experienced by any group gathered around a common affliction.
as I am sure is experienced by any group gathered around a common affliction.
Perhaps this group of lepers was the Esdraelon Plains chapter of the International Leprosy Association—they find deep commonality in their shared suffering.
Or… probably, their gathering is more tragic. They indeed had accepted their cultures’ ways of discriminating:
-"stay away from those awful Samaritans” say the Jews,
-“stay away from those awful Jews” say the Samaritans…
and to them, that was all well and good,
until both of their cultures say, “Stay away from those awful lepers.”
Theirs is likely the fellowship of outcasts, the unclean, the cursed and suffering, gathered together.
-"stay away from those awful Samaritans” say the Jews,
-“stay away from those awful Jews” say the Samaritans…
and to them, that was all well and good,
until both of their cultures say, “Stay away from those awful lepers.”
Theirs is likely the fellowship of outcasts, the unclean, the cursed and suffering, gathered together.
And then Christ is there—there outcast with them, unclean and cursed so that nothing God has made may be called unclean and accursed. His passion… suffering with us.
…This is the point of the incarnation—God with us… and this is what we see today. God in our midst.
And then, after their healing, they come to a turning point. Will they return to regular life, or reconstitute their relationship, no longer around the sameness of suffering, but instead around the one who saves?
Prayer
Will they return to regular life, or remain together as a new people with Jesus?
The majority return to regular life.
This is far from an illogical act. Wouldn’t you want to see everyone you left behind when you caught leprosy?
Maybe it felt like an escape? The problem is fixed, so I need to go as far away from that broken part of my life as I can!
Maybe it was more banal than that
—I went to the priest, I did my duty—I did the prescribed ritual, now I can return.
I did the bare minimum, what more do you want from me?
—I went to the priest, I did my duty—I did the prescribed ritual, now I can return.
I did the bare minimum, what more do you want from me?
But, by leaving behind the one who saved them, and leaving behind the identity and fellowship of their need, they are electing to return to normalcy, instead of reconciling their soul to their previous affliction.
They’re not dealing with the aftereffects of their suffering. They’re going back instead of forward,
back to their old life instead of forward into a new one that includes their past.
They’re not dealing with the aftereffects of their suffering. They’re going back instead of forward,
back to their old life instead of forward into a new one that includes their past.
They are choosing revival, instead of death and resurrection.
But then there is the remnant that return to Jesus… the one, this Samaritan.
I imagine he returns because he’s astonished at what God has done for him. “The Jewish Messiah made me, a Samaritan, clean! Healed me.” This is a shocking thing, completely unexpected…
God came at him sideways!
It’s like catching something in the periphery of your vision instead of straight on, you’re going to take notice. Think of haunted houses, the majority of the scare-factor is being surprised.
God came at him sideways!
It’s like catching something in the periphery of your vision instead of straight on, you’re going to take notice. Think of haunted houses, the majority of the scare-factor is being surprised.
So too, this man is caught off-guard by God’s gracious act through this unexpected vessel, this man of a different race and religion who heals him!
Yes, sometimes God comes at us sideways.
Yes, sometimes God comes at us sideways.
And to that, he gets caught in this wonderful cycle of joy and thankfulness
—in his case it begins with astonishment and moves to gratitude,
but it could just as easily have started on the other foot,
giving thanks can open you up to joy.
—in his case it begins with astonishment and moves to gratitude,
but it could just as easily have started on the other foot,
giving thanks can open you up to joy.
And yet, as Jesus asks, “were not 10 made clean? But the other 9, where are they?” 10%...Only a remnant return…
this has always been the story of God’s people, many fall away, yet some remain
—this is the story of the mustard seed we read of last week
—God does things small,
-salt, not the whole meal,
-light to illuminate the thing, not the thing itself.
this has always been the story of God’s people, many fall away, yet some remain
—this is the story of the mustard seed we read of last week
—God does things small,
-salt, not the whole meal,
-light to illuminate the thing, not the thing itself.
Or as we read in 2nd Kings, common water and washing, not hocus pocus and the greatest of rivers, is enough to heal Naaman
—a captured girl and some servants are the ones who get the King to act in his own best interest,
they reveal God!
—a captured girl and some servants are the ones who get the King to act in his own best interest,
they reveal God!
Yes, a small segment return to the place that changed them… not in a bellybutton-gazing self-victimizing way
—but in a way that transforms them into a cohort of moral geniuses, often called “wounded healers.”
—but in a way that transforms them into a cohort of moral geniuses, often called “wounded healers.”
-Think of the Apostle Paul, we do not know what the “thorn in his side” was, but we can trust that struggle helped him minister faithfully even in the worst of conditions in a compassionate manner.
-Think of those brave survivors of the Holocaust, Viktor Frankel and Eli Weisel, whose works and lives wrestled mightily with questions of meaning and morality.
-Think too of Mother Theresa
—some now question her saintliness and see it as somehow tarnished or diminished, based on the doubts and dark nights of the soul that were found in her private journal… but in point of fact, those struggles themselves where likely the source of the good she did in the world.
—some now question her saintliness and see it as somehow tarnished or diminished, based on the doubts and dark nights of the soul that were found in her private journal… but in point of fact, those struggles themselves where likely the source of the good she did in the world.
Yes, returning to that which wounded you in order to be transformed and strengthened for service, grounded in that place so that you have an equilibrium wherever you go.
Grounded, ultimately, in the ongoing life of faith, “your faith has healed you,” Jesus says after the healing has already occurred. It is more than healing, it is being with him. With the one who showed, as a sign of his resurrection, his wounded hands and side, and lets us join him, join in surprise and join in joy, this small group, this remnant, who live the Resurrected life. Who trust in him.
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