Surprise!

DATE: October 13, 2013 — Launch of Giving Season
SCRIPTURE:
Luke 17:11-19
©Rev. Alison J. Buttrick Patton

“May God, who reached out in love and surprised you with gifts of unending help and confidence, put a fresh heart in you…”

— 2 Thessalonians 2:16-17 (The Message)

That leper, the tenth leper, he didn’t see it coming. Could not have imagined, that morning, when he woke up, stretched his aching, leprous arms and legs, hauled himself to his feet and reached for his begging cup…could not have known what that day held in store. On the contrary, he must have assumed that it would unfold like any other day: without incident — unless you count the furtive looks and the scurrying feet of people who passed him on the road, the ones who crossed over to the other side, making sure that even the shadow he cast did not touch them, lest they become contaminated by his disease. But that was par for the course. Nothing to write home about — even if he could find someone to deliver the letter. His life was a life lived apart, outside the gates of the city, alone, except for the company of other outcasts like himself, others who had been banished from temple and town, others who had been declared “unclean” and therefore unworthy of love and belonging…¹

And to be honest, they were not always the best company, the other lepers. Rejection is a bitter pill to swallow, and bitterness can seep into a person and corrode the spirit. Not ever touching or being touched … it can make a person grumpy. So he didn’t really blame them. But somehow, this leper (you know, to tell this story, we really need a name. Because he’s not just a leper. He’s also a person. So let’s call him Ed). Somehow Ed had managed not to turn crabby. When he woke up that morning, he gave thanks for the feeling of warm sun on his eye-lids. When he stretched those sore arms and legs, he marveled that he still had limbs to stretch. When he reached for his begging cup, he said a silent word of gratitude for the folks who had dropped a penny in that cup the day before. And he gave thanks for the cup itself, like an old friend. When the others grumbled, he said, “It could be worse!” or made a joke to provoke a smile. It’s not that Ed’s heart didn’t ache, for a partner far away, for the sound of “I love you” in his ear, for the incomparable experience of tenderly touching someone on the cheek, or standing elbow to elbow in a crowd of people who are joyfully singing psalms… how he missed those things. But he managed, managed not just to get by, but to keep finding cause for gratitude.

Ed could not have known what was coming, when the group of lepers laid eyes on Jesus that morning. Certainly, they had heard of this wandering rabbi, the one with the big heart, a tendency to irritate religious officials, and a gift for healing. But when they called out to him, keeping the prescribed distance between him and them, they expected — what? That he might toss them a few coins, or give them a blessing? Anything else was, unimaginable, inconceivable. What he did was send them back to the priests. Which seemed odd at first, since people with leprosy weren’t allowed to enter the temple. But then, as they walked, they noticed the color returning to their skin. They stared at their hands, at each other, and realized to their astonishment that they had been healed.

And while nine lepers stood dead in their tracks, tongue-tied and aghast, Ed went racing back, back down the road they had just walked, begging cup abandoned by the side of the road, raced back to Jesus, whooping and leaping, and flung himself at Jesus’ feet.

So tell me: when have you felt that kind of gratitude? When has it filled you up with wonder and praise? I’ve got this vivid picture of Ed — even before he saw Jesus that morning — as being awash in gratitude, the kind of guy who would stand outside in the rain or give his only penny to a leper with an empty cup. And I wonder if the thing that set him apart from his companions wasn’t just that he ran back to say thank-you on that particular, most remarkable day, but that he was always saying ‘thank you,’ that he practiced saying ‘thank you’ every day. At least, that’s what I imagine. Because he reminds me of the folks I know who routinely move to gratitude when some of us just get annoyed. Flat tire? Well at least it isn’t raining. Raining? Well, the grass will be glad! And it’s not just optimism I’m talking about, that kind of blind disregard for real suffering. As in: “Ah well; I’m sure it will all work out in the end.” Real gratitude comes from knowing what’s at stake. Real gratitude comes from appreciating just how precarious and so how precious life is, how precious love is. Gratitude is the opposite of being entitled. It’s being surprised, every time, by what God has done.

Like Ed was surprised. Ten lepers were healed that day, but only Ed returned to give thanks and praise to God. And he was a foreigner. A Samaritan, which means he was doubly burdened, cast out twice. First, by a disease and then by his ethnic identity, because Jews despised Samaritans, would not give them the time of day. So Ed had greater cause for bitterness than any of those lepers. More reason to have written off the whole game, and less reason to expect anything from a Jewish rabbi. All of which might explain why Ed was doubly astonished, when he found himself healed. Perhaps he saw the more clearly, the blessing beneath the blessing — not just a physical cure, but a heart-healing. As he stood staring at his hands, smooth and unblemished, as he felt new life coursing through his body, it sunk in: “This thing that Jesus has done, it means that I am worthy; that Jesus, if no other, believes that I am worthy of love and belonging…”

So Ed, the tenth leper, ran, ran back down the road, whooping and leaping and praising God, because he couldn’t contain himself. And after welcoming him, Jesus said, “Get up and go on your way. Your faith has made you well.” Well. A word which can also be translated as, saved — as in, your faith has saved you, or it has made you whole. Whole. Healed body. Mended heart. Joyful spirit. Whole. It’s like those words written by the apostle Paul to the Thessalonians — the ones I read earlier:

“May God, who reached out in love and surprised you with gifts of unending help and confidence, put a fresh heart in you . . .” May you be made whole.

So what about you? Do you recognize that uncontainable feeling, that heart rush, the impulse to shout out the window, or hug your neighbor or do something to let God know how grateful you are — when you pass the test, or get the job, or get a clear mammogram after five years of remission, or just survive the treatments, or meet the new baby, or find the lost child or stay sober one more week or just make it through the day…

That feeling is the beginning of generosity. Because thanking leads to giving.

It’s the flowers we buy for our sweetheart — just because; it’s the meal we cook for a loved one, the handmade gift we lovingly wrap for a friend or the stuffed bear we give to that newest grandchild. And it’s the money that we put in the offering plate each week here, during worship — our way of saying, “Wow! And, Thank you! And I love you, God.” If you have ever felt even a little like Ed, the tenth leper, the moment he realized he was healed; if you’ve been surprised by grace; if it’s ever occurred to you that God has blessed you in a dozen different ways — and that’s just since last Tuesday; if you have felt the abiding presence of God even as you sit in a dark and difficult place, then you know what I’m talking about, what it feels like to want to shower God with gifts.

That’s what we are invited to do during this Season of Giving: to get in touch with the breadth and depth of our gratitude, to count the ways that God has surprised us, has born us up or blessed us, and then to say, “Thank you!” in a tangible way, by making a pledge, a promise to give something we value, a portion of our income, back to God. To do that, not because we should, but because we cannot contain ourselves…

“But preacher, what if I’m not feeling it? What if all I’m feeling is overwhelmed, or neglected, or stuck? What if I’m running on empty?” It’s all well and good for Ed — he’s got a gift for gratitude. But some days we may feel more like the other nine lepers before they were healed: abandoned, a bit grumpy, or trapped in a life that is not all we had hoped it would be. “If there is a God, She sure hasn’t been good to me.” Maybe you’ve had days like that, or whole seasons. Maybe you are there now…

In that case, I suggest giving more. Really. Because it turns out: it helps if we practice gratitude, if we shift our focus from the stuff that’s got us stuck to the “miracles that surround us.”² Because it’s all a gift. If we wake up every morning and give thanks for warm sun on our eyelids, for limbs we can stretch, and for clean water and coffee or tea in our cup. We give something away out of sheer gratitude for all that, and then, after the fact, we find ourselves filled. In the words of Anne Lamott, we “practice being receptive, open for the business of gratitude.”²

It’s a bit of chicken and egg thing, isn’t it? Be surprised by God, and you’ll want to say ‘Thank you.’ Practice saying ‘Thank you,’ and you may just be surprised by God. But this is the truth of it: It goes both ways. On the hard days, the stuck days, the running-on-empty days, try giving a gift, surprising a neighbor, letting someone else go before you in line. Try writing an extra check. Find something of value you can offer to God and see what happens.

This is, of course, a work in progress. For all of us. So friends, here this amazing Good News: No matter who we are or where we find ourselves on this journey, God declares us worthy of love and belonging. Maybe that comes as a surprise; or maybe you’ve always known it, deep in your gut. Maybe you already carry a profound sense of gratitude with you every day, or maybe you’re still working on seeing the world through the eyes of a grateful leper. Either way, this is my prayer for you, for us: May you feel that unconditional love of God, may it course through you like new life; may it fill you up, and so may you be awash in gratitude. May you practice that gratitude every day. May your generosity increase. And as it does, may you be surprised by all that God has yet in store, for you, and for us, for this church, for this precious world. Thanks be to God, Amen.

Scripture Texts

Luke 17:11-19

11 On the way to Jerusalem Jesus was going through the region between Samaria and Galilee. 12 As he entered a village, ten lepers approached him. Keeping their distance, 13 they called out, saying, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!” 14 When he saw them, he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went, they were made clean. 15 Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice. 16 He prostrated himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him. And he was a Samaritan. 17 Then Jesus asked, “Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they? 18 Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” 19 Then he said to him, “Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.”