28^th Sunday in Ordinary Time (C); October 9, 2022

2 Kgs 5:14-17.  Ps 987.  2 Tim 2:8-13.  Lk 17:11-19

Deacon Jim McFadden

       Someone once said that “By the time you turn 75 years of age, the only words that should come out of your mouth is “thank you!”  Being over that age group, I’d like to take my cue from that aphorism, by reflecting on the episode recounted in today’s Gospel according to Luke.  While Jesus was on his way, 10 lepers approached him, begging: “Jesus, Master! Have pity on us?!” (17:13).  We know that leprosy was an awful disease in the ancient world, but those who had it suffered not only physically, but were socially marginalized as well.  Not only that, they were religiously ostracized because they were seen as being permanently unclean and not fit to be a part of the Jewish community.  Despite all of this Jesus did not back off from meeting them were they were.  Sometimes, Jesus went beyond the limitations imposed by the Law and would actually touch the sick, thereby making himself “unclean” in the eyes of the religious authorities.  But, in this case Jesus healed the 10 lepers from a distance and invited them to present themselves to the priests (cf. 14), who were designated by Law to certify  any healings that may have occurred.  Jesus didn’t do anything dramatic: he just listened to their prayer, heard their cry for mercy, and sent them immediately to the religious authorities.

            Those 10 lepers trusted Jesus; they didn’t hang around him until they were cured, but in their leprous condition, they went on their way doing what Jesus told them to do.  On the way to the priests, they were all cured.  The priests would have then been able to verify their healing and readmit them into the religious life of the community.  I invite you to put yourself into this situation: you’ve just been cured of this horrible disease; your social and religious alienation has ended; and, you have the rest of your life to live a humane and fruitful life.  Such being the case, an appropriate response would be to fly back to Jesus, who cured you, and thank him profusely for his mercy and healing.  But, NO!  Only one of the lepers, before going to the priests, returned to thank Jesus and to praise God for the grace received.  Only one, the other nine continued on their way.  This must have rankled Jesus because he does point out that the only one to return to give thanks was a Samaritan, an outsider—a “heretic” in the eye of the Jewish community.  Jesus’ response is poignant, if not sad: “Ten were cleansed, were they not?  Where are the other nine?  Has none but this foreigner returned to give thanks to God?” (vs. 17-18). 

            This narrative offers a template in how the world can be divided: those who do not give thanks and those who do.  Those who take from the world as if everything is owed to them, and those who welcome everything that comes their way as a gift, as grace.  Our Catechism puts it succinctly: “every event and need can become an offering of thanksgiving” (CCC, # 2638).  Having a grateful heart always begins from here: from the recognition that grace always precedes us—we’re just the recipients.  Even before we were conceived, we were loved by God.  And, when we became human, there has not been a moment in which we were not unconditionally and tenderly loved by God.  In other words, we were loved before we learn how to love.  If we view life from this perspective, then “thank you” should constantly be on our lips.  It should be the driving force of our day. But, like the nine lepers, how often do we even forget to say “thank you.” 

            For Catholic Christians, we should be people most attuned to gratitude because the name given to the “fount and summit” of our worship, the Sacrament of Eucharist, precisely means in Greek thanksgiving.  Eucharist means thanksgiving.  Therefore, we should have grateful hearts as we thank God daily for the gift of life.  God has given us this gift so that we may be in relationship with Him now and forever.  And, as we reflect upon our lives, this is only the first of a long series of debts that we incur by living.  Everything we are and everything we have are gifts from God.  We are deeply in debt to God.  And, during our lives, we have been the recipients of so much love and concern from others, beginning with our mothers and fathers who were the first to gaze upon our eyes with tender mercy.  Often, we experienced  love from our teachers, catechists, coaches, friends who carried out their roles over and beyond their duty.  All of these experiences should stir within us a profound sense of gratitude. 

            This “thank you” should be on our lips as we begin our day.  Just pause and realize that at this moment in this place you are being unconditionally loved by God who delights in you as his beloved daughter or son.  And, if you have this sense of being loved by God, you know that others do as well making them your neighbor.  Along this line, while salvation is always personal, it’s never individualized as we all share in the encounter with Jesus as members of his mystical Body, the Church.  Such an encounter should bring us joy because Jesus is Immanuel, God among us.  The closer we get to Jesus, the closer we’re getting to God.  That should bring us joy. 

            The episode of the 10 lepers suggests this.  Naturally, they were all happy of being relieved of their horrible disease.  But, among them only the Samaritan experienced joy.  Yes, he was healed along with the others, but he rejoices in his encounter with Jesus.  He is not only freed from the curse of leprosy, but he now possesses the certainty that he is loved.  Since God is love, it is the discovery of love in our lives that we recognize as the force that drives the universe, which is how Dante ended his Divine Comedy: the Love that “moves the sun and other stars” (Paradise, XXXIII, 145).  We are no longer strangers wandering in the wilderness; no, we have a home; we dwell in Christ and from that dwelling  we gaze upon the world which appears infinitely more beautiful to us.  Indeed, the billions of galaxies in the cosmos is a revelation of the depth of God’s infinite love.  Once he starts creating, he can’t stop!  And, we are children of this love; we are brothers and sisters of love.  We are men and women of grace.  That’s why we say, “Thank you!”  Amen.