“The First Steps”

Luke 17:11-19

October 10, 2004

St. Paul Church

Rev. John A. Fleming

Were your growing up years like mine? Were there certain questions that your parents asked you that you had no real chance of answering? These questions followed me around for most of the years that I lived in my parents’ house. Now I know that such questions are called rhetorical questions, which means that there is no real answer to them. But back then, in my growing up years, they were just confusing. Let me give you an example or two or three of these questions, that usually came out of my mother’s mouth. Here is the first one: “Were you born in a barn?” That was so confusing to me. Surely my mom knew the answer to that. I assume that she was there. On more than one occasion, she had told me about the day of my birth and her story always involved a hospital room at the Jackson-Madison Country General Hospital. Was I born in a barn? Later I came to realize that when she asked me that, she had something else in mind. It was always asked either when I left the back door open or when my room looked like farm animals had taken up residence in it. Let me give you another example of such a question. This one was asked of me a little later in my life. If my memory serves me correctly, it was asked, again by my mother, during my teenaged years. Here is the question, “When are you going to grow up?” Again, I assumed that my mother knew how this sort of things worked. I was under the impression that growing up took a certain number of years. I was pretty sure that you were not born one day and thirty-six years old the next day. I assumed that it took a while to learn how to do things for myself and to mature. But that was not the intention of mom’s question. What she really wanted to know was this, “When are you going to stop acting like a five year old?” Well, let me give you one more of these questions that my mother used to ask me. We will have to slip back to my elementary days to answer it, or to try to answer it. Here was my mother’s question, “Did you forget something?” My mother would look at me with a strange look on her face, when she asked me that question. The first few times, I searched my body to make sure that I had not forgotten something. You will know this. My mother’s question was an appeal for me to say thank you for something that she or someone else had done for me.

I thought about that question when I read our scripture lesson for this morning, this story of what happened when Jesus encountered ten lepers on the border between Samaria and Galilee. Luke confirms what we already know about bands of lepers. They were separated from the ones and the things that they loved the most. They weren’t, of course, always lepers. They had been someone. They had done important things. Maybe in this group of ten, one, maybe two of them, were doctors, whose names and reputations were significant. It is possible, I guess, that one or more of these men could have been a priest in the not so distant past, leading worship, counseling those who needed it the most, preaching about the God of love. For sure, among all of them, were fathers and husbands. Maybe there was a newly wed among the bunch. Or a man whose wife had just borne their first child. Someone who looked down at his hands and said, “Honey, I cannot believe it. Do you see what I see? I know. I know. But I have to go. It is the law.” Their past lives are now exactly that, past lives. Now they are ostracized, shunned, cast out, and separated in more ways than we would ever know.

The law required that they remove themselves. That is the reason that they are on the border between Samaria and Galilee. Now, I don’t know about you, but I am thankful that I serve a God whose Son loves the ones who walk along the borders of life. So they were required to remove themselves from others. They were also required to shout out, in loud voices, when they met someone on the road. The words that they were supposed to use were these: “Unclean! Unclean!” But that is not what these lepers cried. No, they cried out the words that most, if not all of us have cried out at some time or another in our own lives. You see, their cry is the cry of a disciple, a follower of Jesus. They said as loud as they could, “Jesus, Master. Have mercy on us!” Maybe you have said those words, silently sitting in your pew on a Sunday morning, or laying in your bed in the moments before you went to sleep. Perhaps it was so bad, once, that you came up here, to the church, to the altar and prayed, “Jesus, Master. Have mercy on me!”

What is Luke up to here? There is more. Luke tells us that when Jesus saw them, he told them to go and show themselves to the priest. That, too, was the law. It was the priest that confirmed a healing and gave you the ability to go back to your life. I love this lesson because it is full of twists. There has been one and now the second one comes. I noticed this. Jesus did not heal the men and then tell them to find a priest. He told them to go. They went, and on the road, they were healed. Don’t you know that it must have been exciting. Don’t you know that they must have first felt the mysterious and the tingling power and then looked down to see their skin the way that it used to be. There is a sermon in these words. Luke gives us these words as a model of faith. We have to do our part in our healing. We have to take a step of faith. We cannot do God’s part. That is up to Him. But we can do our part, which means that we get up, we take a step, we keep going, and along the way.... maybe we, too, feel the mysterious and tingling power of God. There is an old rabbinic tale about what happened when God’s children got to the Red Sea. In hot pursuit were their enemies. The waters had not parted. The tale says that when the first man put his sandal into the water, the water parted. Isn’t that a great story. I don’t know if it is true, but it is great. We have to do our part and trust that God will do His part.

A preacher friend of mine told me the story of a man who graduated from law school when he was forty-seven. For twenty-three of his forty-seven years, he struggled. When he was thirteen, he had his first drink. At fifteen, he smoked marijuana for the first time. At eighteen, he was addicted to heroin. From that time on, he was in and out of prisons and programs that did not seen to do any good. When he was thirty-six, he went to an AA meeting, like the ones that happen two doors down from here. After the meeting, someone called and asked him to come to another meeting. He said this, “I don’t think so. I’ve got some business to take care of.” The caller was bold. I suspect that he had heard many excuses. He said this, “If you want something different, my friend, you have to do something different.” He did not like the advice. He resented the counsel. He thought, “Who is this guy that he would say such a thing to me!?” But, he could not get the man’s words out of his mind. They rang there like church bells, over and over again. One morning, he walked out of his house, on his way to the liquor store. It was his daily practice to go there. As he walked he said over and over to himself, “I want this out of my life. I want this out of my life.” When he came to the store, he continued walking and went to his step-father’s house who drove him to a treatment facility. Ten months later, he came out a different man. He went to college and then to law school. And when he

graduated he said this, “I look back and see that I am a part of something bigger. There is a purpose for my life.” You have heard the story before. This story is told over and over again. Things like this happen all of the time. People are healed or freed from something that was stronger than they were and when they are on the other side of it, they realize that they did not do it by themselves. They know that they could not do it by themselves. Sometimes on the road, on the border, on our way, we are healed, and it is great.

But friends, this story is more than a healing story. There is another twist. The third of the story. The one who turned around when he felt his healing and when he noticed it, was a Samaritan, a foreigner, the least likely, the unenlightened, one that you never would have imagined would have done that. It is just like Luke to tell us about it. You will remember that he is the one who has Jesus coming for everyone, not just a chosen race. He is the one who tells the story of the Good Samaritan. I think I know what Luke is doing. In fact, I am sure of it. He is holding up this former leper as exemplary. I think that he is saying if this man turned back when he realized the grace of God in his life, shouldn’t we, who have grace dripping off of us, surrounding us wherever we go. Shouldn’t we be the first ones to turn around to count our blessings and to say thank you to the God who has done so much for us?

I don’t know if you have heard about the survey that was recently done about those who count their blessings and said thanks to God and those who did not do that. The results won’t surprise you. The ones who did count their blessings slept better, exercised more, and cared for people. Here is how the survey was done. One group of people were asked to fill out a weekly report. On the page, they were to write down five things that they were grateful for. Things on the list were boundless, but included friends and family. Those were the top two vote getters. The other group was asked not to count their blessings, but to count their troubles and their hassles. They listed things like financial troubles and traffic. Well, you can imagine the results. The ones who counted their blessings and gave thanks felt better about their lives and the future. The ones who did not do that, did not feel good about their lives. One group focused on how rich they were. The other group focused on how poor they felt. I think that I would like for us to try the experiment. Why not, for one week, get a sheet of paper and write down the things that you are thankful for. Some of you might rather list the things that bother you. If you want to do that, that is all right. If you count your blessings, what would be on your list? I hope that high on it would be God and the things that God has done in your life and the people that he has sent your way. That is what this story is really about. It’s really about remembering a life of thanksgiving and praise.

There is another story about a leper that we can find in our Bibles. This one comes from the Old Testament, the book of Second Kings. It’s main character, too, is a foreigner. He is not a Samaritan; he is from Syria. He is a leader in the Syrian army. His name is Naaman. He hears about the prophet Elijah who has the power to heal. He starts out, he steps out, and he finds God’s prophet. Naaman asks to be healed. Elijah tells him to go jump into a river. Literally, he tells him to jump into the River Jordan seven different times. Naaman is desperate, so he does what Elijah tells him to do. When he discovers that he is healed, he goes back to Elijah. He wants to offer Elijah a gift. Elijah refuses it, so Naaman says, “Then I will take back two baskets full of dirt from here to Syria to remind me to always give thanks to the Lord of this land.”

Well, it’s not dirt. But have you noticed that we, too, have brought back some things from a far country and a distant time to remind us to give thanks to God. Look at the cross. It comes from a hill near Jerusalem. It is here to remind us of what Jesus Christ has done for us. There is a baptismal font. We used it a little while ago. It reminds us of our baptisms and God’s commitment to us. In January, we renew our baptismal vows. On that Sunday, I will say, “Remember your baptism, and be thankful.” There is a table. It is not the one that Jesus sat behind. It is not the one that the disciples gathered around, but it does remind us of what we are to do until he comes again. When we have communion, I usually say these words, “Let us give thanks to the Lord our God.” You usually respond, “It is right to give our thanks and praise.” Today, friends, is commitment Sunday. We turn once again to God to give thanks for the things that He has done for us, the things and the people that he has blessed us with. Listen again to my mom’s question. It is an important one: “Did you forget something?” Thanks, God, for everything. Let us pray.

(Special thanks to a minister friend of mine who shared an idea or two in this sermon)