Is Christ Revealed?

 I came home from a sermon by an associate pastor at the church I was attending just a week or so before Thanksgiving, 2019 and began to think about it. I began to draft an alternative version of his roughly 35-minute sermon into something more like 15 minutes. By about Thanksgiving, it had pretty much taken shape, then sat around for another few years until I recently resurrected it. Following is my version of the sermon. (You can get hints of the content of the AP’s original in some of my comments.)

. . . . .

Let us read the text for today’s sermon together. From the Gospel of Luke, chapter 17, verses 11-19:

Now on his way to Jerusalem, Jesus traveled along the border between Samaria and Galilee. As he was going into a village, ten men who had leprosy met him. They stood at a distance and called out in a loud voice, “Jesus, Master, have pity on us!”

When he saw them, he said, “Go, show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went, they were cleansed.

One of them, when he saw he was healed, came back, praising God in a loud voice. He threw himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him — and he was a Samaritan.

Jesus asked, “Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the other nine? Has no one returned to give praise to God except this foreigner?” Then he said to him, “Rise and go; your faith has made you well.”

The Lord be with you.

The disciples are unaware, but they are traveling with Jesus toward Jerusalem and His crucifixion. While Jesus continues to make prophetic references to that time, the disciples misunderstand or miss it completely.

But the journey is also filled with parables and events that will ultimately shape the faith of these errant listeners as, in a short time of only weeks or months, they step out in the newly-found power of the Holy Spirit to spread the word and establish the church.

They have not yet made it to Bethany. There has been no triumphal entry. In many ways this may have seemed like any of the other days from the past three or so years as the disciples listened to Jesus teaching them, and observing his ways as he healed the sick and talked and ate with sinners.

Today’s passage concerns one of those events. On this occasion, along the journey south from Galilee to Jerusalem, near the border between Judea and Samaria, outside of an unnamed city, ten lepers cry out to Jesus “Jesus, Master, have pity on us!”

We could take time to discuss the history of Samaria and the animosity between Jews and Samaritans, but we won’t. We could talk about what is meant by leprosy in Bible times that differs from what we call leprosy today, but we won’t. We could note that these men were in disobedience to the Levitical rules concerning those who were required to maintain a strict distance as a quarantine, but what will be covered will be less than complete.

Instead, we will look at the story as it unfolds.

And as stories go, it is a short story. Jesus walks. Ten men cry out. Jesus directs them to go to the priest. As they go they are healed. Only one returns to praise Jesus and thank him for what he has done.

So let’s look at the parts of the story.

Jesus is walking and teaching. Pretty much what has been happening for three years or so. Ten lepers are outside the city, at least a minimum distance from the road, as has been required in Leviticus.

But there the “normal” is disrupted. If there was any chance that a non-leprous person might come too close to one with leprosy, the leper was required to cry out “Unclean!” Unclean!” But these men, while possibly still at the required distance and unlikely to contact the rest of the world, cry out to Jesus, asking for pity.

Had they heard that Jesus was healing the sick? Probably so. So here was their chance. Jesus was right there. So they prayed.

Yes. Their cry was a prayer for healing. It was not wrapped in the usual verbiage that we call a prayer. It did not tell the story of what was going on with graphic details of their plight. It did not ask for guidance for doctors or strength for themselves or their families. It just asked for the pity — the mercy — of Jesus. Didn’t even say what required the pity. It was obvious.

So Jesus asked them to come over to him. . . . No. That did not happen.

Jesus spoke encouraging words. . . . No.

Maybe he prayed to the Father for their healing so it would be seen by those traveling with him. . . . Possibly, but nothing like that is recorded.

Instead, Jesus simply told them to go to the priests and present themselves. If the men had looked at themselves right then, it was likely that they would have seen no reason to go. But they obeyed and went. Between the time that Jesus told them to go and their arrival at the priests, they were healed. Did they or anyone else see the transformation occur? We don’t know. But it was complete, and we must assume that they were cleared to return into normal society.

At this point, the story diverges. Nine of the men go their own way and cease to be part of the story. But one of them realizes the miracle that has occurred and its significance and returns, praising God, to thank Jesus.

“Where are the others? Were they not healed?” The ones who needed to hear the question were not there. They simply accepted their healing and moved on.

Jesus was not really asking the one who returned. The man is not recorded as making any answer.

Maybe the question was for those who had been with Jesus the whole time. Those who had seen and heard the initial encounter and then witnessed the return of the Samaritan.

Wait a minute! The one who returned was not even a Jew? Were the others Jews? It is likely that at least some were. But the one who recognized his debt of gratitude was not part of the children of Israel.

Maybe this question should haunt us a little. How often do we pray for help from the Lord? How often do we put our trust in Him to guide our paths and walk with us through our trials? Maybe if we had been healed of leprosy, or cancer — or received an unexpected check in the mail when the bank account was not expected to remain solvent before the next regular infusion of cash — then we might think to praise God.

But if the hunt for work during a good job market lands us a great job. Or the noise in your car turns out to be minor. Or your child simply continues to learn diligently at school and receives high marks for it. What do we do then?

Whether, like me, you are on one end of a theological spectrum that has problems with an “everything is preordained . . . God is in charge of all the details” kind of determinism that some preach, or you only recognize the hand of God when you have specifically prayed — and recently — about this very issue, or are somewhere in the middle, why do we not, like Paul directed, praise God “in everything?” Not always FOR everything. But IN it.

There are many things that might be drawn from this narrative. But today I would like us — me included — to focus on something to ask ourselves throughout our lives. Day-by-day, hour-by-hour, and even minute-by-minute.

What is revealed? And if you are unsure what I would have you see in your life, both in the huge and the minute things, consider the bridge of this song:

Chains be broken
Lives be healed
Eyes be opened
Christ is revealed

Is Christ revealed to you when you find that elusive answer? When you overcome that nagging problem or addiction? When that accident that could have happened didn’t? Or even when you find peace in the middle of circumstances that are not what you wanted. Like another recent song that laments that God doesn’t “part the waters I wish I could walk through.”

But whether it is providence, determinism, or just life as it happens, do we continue to see Christ? Not an emotional encounter but a solid recognition of Jesus as the I Am. Even when the waters don’t part or the mountain is not moved, do we find Christ revealed?

A writer for a blog that I have followed for many years offered the following in a post shortly before that Thanksgiving:

Praises and thanksgivings to God based only on life’s good things are always vulnerable to life’s disasters when they happen. If God is only in the good, then, when the bad comes, God seems to disappear; there is no reason for praise or gratitude. Where is God?

Praises and thanksgivings expressed from the depths of the pit, from the deep, dark times when everything is wrong, everything is ugly, are praises and thanksgivings expressed by those who know the God who meets us on the cross. Those who look at the Friday crucifixion and call it “Good” Friday. To remember the cross is to be in heaven when we seem to be swallowed up in hell. ¹

So, in the triumphs and trials of life, do we find Christ revealed? Or is it mostly in the triumphs — if we even remember why we have triumphs? Is Christ revealed as the one who both saves us FROM and helps us THROUGH our trials?

May we come to be those who see Christ in our lives. Not as Hallmark moments or precious promises, but as the Lord of our lives that is worthy of our praise, trust, and obedience.

May the Word of Christ dwell in us richly in all wisdom. Amen.

 

¹ “A Late November Meditation on Memory, Gratitude, and Joy” by Randy Thompson posted on 11/25/2019 on the Internet Monk. (Archives may be available somewhere, but the blog is no longer active.)

(original draft 11/25/2019)