Luke 17:11-19

It was a dawn like any other dawn. The sun came up. Occasionally someone in a group might comment about the beauty of the sunrise, but beauty was something that had little meaning to this group. Nor was dawn a cause for rejoicing. There were no new opportunities each day, simply a continuation of yesterday, a continuation of pain, a continuation of shame, a continuation of deterioration. With leprosy, the only future was death. The present was only a living death.

The small group of men stirred. Some poked the fire, others rummaged around for something to eat. This morning they were lucky, as yesterday they had found some moldy bread that someone had thrown out. They were not afraid of moldy bread, what damage could a little mold do to them? Their camp was close enough to a trickle of water that they could quench their thirst.

Eventually they wandered out toward the road. As long as there was nobody around, they were quiet. No need to talk, for there was nothing to say, no plans to make, no appointments to keep. If they saw someone on the road, some of them yelled out in warning, “Unclean! Unclean!” and they stepped away from the road. Anyone hearing them knew they were lepers, knew to stay away from them. At the same time, the lepers survived by begging, so others would cry out, begging for money, for food, for rags, for anything. And sometimes someone would leave something on the road for them, leave it and then hurry on.

Nobody wanted anything to do with lepers. Leprosy was very contagious. Because there was no understanding of germs then, there was no understanding about sanitation, about sterilization, about keeping clean. People simply knew that you stayed away from lepers, or you caught it.

The morning passed slowly, as did every morning. Every day they sat here, in the region between Samaria and Galilee, and watched the travelers. Occasionally a memory would surface — a time before, when they were men. But the time before no longer mattered. They were no longer farmers, merchants, traders. They were no longer fathers, brothers, sons. They were no longer Jews or Gentiles. They were the walking dead, the unclean, the nameless, the faceless.

A crowd came down the road, moving south toward Jerusalem. Usually, when a group was fairly large, someone would leave them something. So the men yelled out, “Unclean!” and moved back away from the road and squatted down.

As the crowd drew nearer, one of the lepers struggled to his feet. “It’s Jesus!” he squawked out in a hoarse voice, almost a croak. “It’s Jesus! He heals! He heals!”

“But can he heal lepers?” asked one of the lepers, in disbelief. “Can he heal us?”

The one who had recognized Jesus didn’t answer. Instead, he called out, “Jesus! Master! Have pity on us!” The others picked up the cry. “Jesus! Master! Have pity on us!” After all, they had nothing to lose! If he couldn’t heal lepers, they were no worse off than before. But if he could … was it possible?

Slowly, carefully, because they knew better than to get close to people, they edged forward toward the man who now stood by the side of the road. The normal look people gave them was of anger, disgust, or maybe pity. But this man … the look on his face was different. Compassion? They didn’t remember the last time they had seen that look.

They came closer, and he did not move away. He looked at each of them, looked into their faces. Some had their faces covered, because the leprosy had destroyed their noses or their ears. But this man … he looked into their faces, into their eyes, with … yes, with compassion.

They stopped, staring back at him, returning his look. For some it had been many years since anyone had actually looked them in the eye, looked at their faces, seen them as individuals, as human beings.

The people behind Jesus stayed back at a safe distance. No one spoke. The silence was almost deafening.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Jesus spoke. “Go, show yourselves to the priests.” They stood there in amazement! Show yourselves to the priests? There was only one reason for a leper to go to a priest! A leper went to a priest to check to see if the leprosy was gone! Show yourselves to the priests! To be clean! To be whole! To be well!

The man spoke again, “Go, show yourselves to the priests.” And he made that gesture with his hand that means, “Shoo! Go!”

They looked at each other in amazement. They studied each other carefully. Was there any change? Did they see any difference? They turned their eyes inward. Did they feel any difference in themselves? Did they feel better? Stronger?

Then one of them turned and began hobbling down the road. His pace was no different from before, but the others began to follow him. After all, they had nothing to lose. The last one heard the soft voice of Jesus encourage, “Go.” And they went.

And as they went, they actually dared to look at each other. They studied each other.

“Is he walking a little faster?”

“Is his face clearing?”

“Do I feel a little stronger?”

“Can I actually feel some sensation in my fingers?”

By the time they reached the edge of the village, they realized that they were walking faster, steadier. Their heads were high, their backs were straight. They could actually feel the gravel under their sandals. Their skin was clear. When they rubbed their arms, the skin felt smooth, soft, healthy!

“Go and show yourselves to the priests.” They had gone in obedience, and as they went, they were healed! Now they had two reasons to go to the priests: to be declared clean and healthy, but also to praise God! To thank God for their healing! And in their minds they began to wonder. What did they have that they could offer God in thanksgiving?

They didn’t even notice that one of their group stopped, hesitated, and then turned around. They didn’t even notice when they found the priest that there were only nine of them. As soon as the priest had declared them clean, healthy, they each headed off to their families, to where they had lived before, because now they were men again.

The one young man, the one who had stopped and gone back—now you could see that he was young. As he turned back away from the village, his pace increased, faster and faster, until he was running, skipping, dancing with delight, with joy! He ran back to the crowd, yelling his thanks to God, “Praise God! I’m whole! Praise God!”

As Jesus watched him come, waving his arms in the air, a smile played across his face. This was the best part, seeing the joy that followed a healing. The young man reached Jesus and threw himself on the ground, hugging Jesus’ feet. As a Samaritan, he could not show himself to the priest. He was not welcome at the temple. He could not offer his thanks there, because his understanding of God was not acceptable to the temple priests. But what he could do, he did.

“Thank you, Jesus! Thank you! Praise God! Thank you, Jesus!”

General Questions

1) How does this story follow its Scripture?

2) How does this story expand its Scripture for you?

3) What is the message of this story?

4) How does the message apply to us today?

Specific Questions

5) Why did only one leper return to thank Jesus? Were the others not grateful?

6) In most cases, when Jesus healed someone, the change happened immediately. Why not in this case?

7) If the lepers had not headed to the priests, would they have been healed?

8) As Christians, we struggle with the tension between works and grace. Are we saved because we act on our faith? Or are we saved because of God’s grace?