PROPER 23, YEAR C

Sunday, October 12, 2025

Saints Matthew and Mark, Barrington, R. I.

 

2 Kings 5:1-3, 7-15c

Psalm 111

Luke 17:11-19

 

Saying “thank you” lubricates the wheels of social interaction. When a stranger performs some courteous gesture, such as holding open a door, we instinctively acknowledge their kindness with a smile and a “thank you.” In traffic, when another driver yields the right of way to let us make a difficult left turn, we acknowledge them with a friendly wave of the hand.

 

Even more so, in our workplaces, homes, and indeed churches, when people make an extra effort to perform some helpful task, if we’re smart, we remember to say, “thank you.” We do so because we care about their feelings and want them to know that their efforts are valued and appreciated, not taken for granted.

 

One of the pitfalls of church life is that those who feel they haven’t been thanked appropriately can grow resentful and bitter. Ideally, we shouldn’t need such recognition because we offer our gifts of time and talent to God with no thought of receiving anything back in return. However, not everyone has reached that level of spiritual maturity. So, saying “thank you” to the right people at the right times is not only courteous and considerate but also wise and prudent.

 

Today’s Gospel reading, however, takes us deeper into the true meaning and significance of thanksgiving. In our relationship with God, saying “thank you” is far more than just a social convention. We can even say that gratitude to God is at the heart of all authentic Christian spirituality.

 

As Jesus enters a village, ten lepers call out to him.  They’re standing far off because, according to the Law, they must remain outside the towns and villages where people dwell.  So, from a distance, they cry out, "Jesus, master, have mercy on us."  Jesus simply answers, "Go and show yourselves to the priests."  Only a priest of the Temple in Jerusalem can pronounce a leper clean of the disease. (Notice also, as in the Old Testament reading where the Prophet Elisha bids Naaman the leper bathe seven times in the River Jordan, it’s a request that involves minimal hands-on interaction with the person giving the instruction.)

 

The text says, “And as they went, they were made clean.” That wording implies that even though they hadn’t been healed yet, they had the faith and trust to begin the journey. Their faith is immediately rewarded. In the blinking of an eye, the scabs, scales, running sores, and painful itching are gone.  At the Jerusalem Temple, they can be certified as leprosy-free. Then they’ll be able to rejoin the community life from which they’ve been ostracized and excluded. So off they go.

 

All, that is, except one.  He's a Samaritan.  Unlike the other nine, he wouldn’t be going to Jerusalem in any case, but, if anywhere, to the Samaritan Temple on Mount Gerizim in Samaria. Still, like Naaman returning to Elisha after his cleansing from leprosy so many centuries before, his priority is to return and express his gratitude to Jesus. He runs into the village.  Shouting God’s praises, he throws himself at Jesus’ feet, gasping out exclamations of thanksgiving. His attitude can be summed up in the opening words of Psalm 111: “Hallelujah, I will give thanks to the Lord with my whole heart, in the assembly of the upright, in the congregation.”

 

When the other nine lepers present themselves before the priests outside the Temple, they’ll sacrifice doves and lambs as part of the ritual of being pronounced clean. But here in a dusty street in a remote village far from Jerusalem, the Samaritan leper is engaging in a new form of worship.  Instead of doves and lambs, he’s offering a sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving.

 

The Holy Eucharist is similarly a sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving.  The word "Eucharist" comes from the Greek verb meaning “to give thanks," the very same verb that occurs in the Greek text of today's Gospel, where it says that the Samaritan "thanked" Jesus.

 

So, this Samaritan leper teaches us much about the true nature of Christian worship.  He falls down at Jesus’ feet to offer praise and thanks for all that God has done for him. We come here to offer praise and thanks for all that God has done for us. The point is not that God will be miffed at us, like an entitled parishioner, if we don’t thank him properly. Instead, we’re the ones who need a basic disposition of gratitude to grow into a right relationship with God. It’s not that God needs to be thanked, but that we need to be thankful.

 

Saying “thank you” to God transcends all social conventions and niceties because it expresses a basic acknowledgment that God is God and we are not—so that everything we have is sheer gift, unmerited and undeserved. From the moment of conception, we owe our very existence to God’s goodness and generosity. Sometimes it helps to remember that none of us had to be here. God could just as easily have left us uncreated, in which case we wouldn’t be here. But he did create us, we do exist, and that’s cause for thanksgiving right there.

 

Regularly thanking God reminds us that, despite everything that’s wrong with this world, God’s creation remains fundamentally good. Life in this world is worth living, not only on its own merits but also because it contains the promise of eternal life. And just as God is the good creator of a good creation, so he’s ultimately the redeemer and healer of all that’s gone wrong with that creation, as the ten lepers in today’s Gospel can testify firsthand.

 

One way to cultivate the virtue of gratitude is through the proverbial discipline of counting our blessings. Then we realize how much we have to be thankful for. We acknowledge our status as creatures and God’s status as our Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifier. And by continually thanking God, we open ourselves up to a new and ever-deepening relationship with Him.

 

In our New Revised Standard Version translation, Jesus says to the Samaritan leper, "Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well."  But an equally accurate translation of Luke’s Greek would be, "Rise, go your way, your faith has saved you."

 

Today's Gospel shows us that we have a choice. The nine lepers forget about Jesus as soon as he answers their prayer, and they hasten to advance their own lives and agendas. By contrast, the Samaritan leper returns to offer thanks and praise to the Lord without seeking any personal advantage. Of the ten, he models the truly Christian posture of thanksgiving—for which, again, the Greek word is Eucharist. As we learn to adopt that disposition of gratitude, then at the conclusion of this and every Eucharist, we can hear our Lord saying the words, "Rise, go your way, your faith has saved you."