This is my homily for the Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time.

Luke 17:11-19

As Jesus continued his journey to Jerusalem, he traveled through Samaria and Galilee. As he entered a village, ten lepers met him. They stood at a distance from him and raised their voices, saying, “Jesus, Master! Have pity on us!” And when he saw them, he said, “Go show yourselves to the priests.” As they were going they were cleansed. And one of them, realizing he had been healed, returned, glorifying God in a loud voice; and he fell at the feet of Jesus and thanked him. He was a Samaritan. Jesus said in reply, “Ten were healed, were they not? Where are the other nine? Has not but this foreigner returned to give thanks to God?” Then he said to him, “Stand up and go; your faith has healed you.”

Leprosy in the Old Testament and in the time of Jesus was not always what we today call Hansen’s disease. It could range from a mild skin infection that ran its course over a few days and then was gone, to full-blown leprosy, resulting in the growth of nodules on the skin, of ulcers, lost limbs, and eventually death. For this leprosy, there was no cure. And it was contagious.

Those who suffered from leprosy, at least the uncurable, devastating disease, were required to remove themselves from society, because the disease was contagious and was a death sentence. Those with milder rashes or skin infections would separate themselves until the rash or infection cleared, and they were cured. Who determined whether they were cured was the priest. After the skin infection had run its course, the priest would examine the person and, if determined they were healed, they were allowed to return to society. Those who suffered from true leprosy, however, were condemned to being outcasts until the disease took their lives, which could be years. They were required to live in colonies with others who suffered the same fate. They were forbidden contact with anyone who wasn’t a leper. They could not enter the marketplace, so they had to scavenge for food. They were even forbidden to join the community in worship. When they came across others, they had to keep their distance, ring a bell, and shout “unclean” as a warning that they were approaching.  

So, when the ten lepers see Jesus, they keep their distance, as they are required. They cried out, “Jesus, Master! Have pity on us.” They know that Jesus is a miracle worker. They know that Jesus can heal them. After all, He had cured a leper before (Lk 5:12-16). Jesus doesn’t approach them. He simply says, “Go show yourselves to the priest.” It was the priest who could verify that they were cured. The ten lepers obey, demonstrating their faith in Jesus. They don’t ask to be cured right there. They don’t demand some magic spell or incantations from Jesus. All they needed was His word. They trusted Jesus, so they obeyed Him, and on their way to the priest they are cured.

The Scriptures then tell us that “one of them, realizing he had been healed, returned, glorifying God in a loud voice; he fell at the feet of Jesus and thanked him.” Falling at the feet of Jesus was an act of worship. Just as Naaman came to learn that there was no God in all the earth except in Israel, so the leper knew before whom he bowed.

But that line has always struck me: realizing that he was healed. Did the others not realize that they had been healed? How often has God touched us with His grace, only we didn’t realize it because we weren’t paying attention? And because we weren’t paying attention, we didn’t realize that God’s grace had touched us, so we didn’t give thanks. Even in those circumstances where we would expect God to touch us – times of struggle, times of sadness, times of alienation from others, times of illness, times of financial stress, times of hardship in our relationships – these are the times we ought to be looking for God’s grace to touch us. The question is: Are we paying attention? Do we realize it when God’s grace moves in our lives?

Perhaps, like the nine other lepers, we trust in Jesus. We know He can touch us with His grace. We even obey Him, living faithfully the life of the Gospel. But if we aren’t paying attention, we could miss it when His grace moves in our lives. We may not recognize it when His grace touches us, or we may expect His grace to come to manifest itself in one way, and it manifests itself in another, unexpected way and, again, if we aren’t paying attention, we can miss it. And, if we miss it, we won’t give thanks.

This is not intended as a rebuke, but as a reminder, or even as a challenge to open our eyes and our hearts so we can realize when God’s grace touches our lives. God’s grace touches us, really every day. We are here in this place to receive the Eucharist. We are about to participate in a sacrament of the Church, a sacrament given to us by Jesus. A sacrament is a means by which God pours out His grace to us. Our response ought to be to give thanks.

The sacraments are where we have confidence that God’s grace is given to us, so we want to be living the sacramental life of the Church, so we can receive that sacramental grace. But God’s grace is not limited to the sacraments. His grace touches us in many of the circumstances of our lives. Again, are we paying attention? Do we give thanks?

One of the truths of God’s grace is how often it surprises us. Naaman was surprised to learn that the waters of Israel healed him. I suspect that the Samaritan leper was surprised that the Jewish Messiah healed him. I have been regularly surprised during my nursing career with how God’s grace has moved so often in the hospitals where I worked, and even now doing telephone triage. I was surprised that God called me to serve as a deacon. Perhaps some of you are also surprised that God called me to serve as a deacon!

I was surprised to learn that being a dialysis patient did not mean the end of my career as a nurse or the end of my ministry as a deacon. Early on after I started dialysis, I reassured my sister, “I’m not dying. But even if I were dying, I’m not afraid of dying. I’m afraid of disappearing while I’m still here.” But by God’s grace new ways of being a nurse opened up and new opportunities to serve as a deacon became available, even more opportunities. Margaret says I’m busier now than I’ve ever been. God can, by His grace, turn bad news into good news. Don’t get me wrong. I look forward to the day I get a kidney. I hope that phone call comes today. But my kidney disease forcing me into semi-retirement eventually allowed me more opportunities to do what is my favorite thing to do in the whole world, and that is to stand in front of people and talk about Jesus.

Let’s pay attention so we recognize those moments, big or small, when God’s grace moves in our lives. And let’s give thanks when it does. And don’t be surprised when you are surprised by the grace of God. Because I’ll tell you what: No matter how big you think God is, I promise you, He’s bigger still. No matter how wide you believe God’s mercy reaches, His mercy is wider still. No matter how free you imagine God’s grace to be, His grace is yet more free.

Be Christ for all. Bring Christ to all. See Christ in all.