The Stare of His Grace

Healing the Ten Lepers, Luke 17:11-19

We all love stories. One of the interesting things about stories is that they can be told differently.

For instance, legend has it that Ernest Hemmingway, known for his concise language, once won a wager that he could tell a story in just six words. He then wrote on a napkin: “For sale. Baby shoes. Never worn.” Whenever I share this story, invariably people fill in the gaps by positing a backstory like, the baby must have died. One thing is clear, however, the story did not start at the beginning; it was told out of chronological order.

Sometimes stories are told from the beginning, but we are surprised by their ending. Like when we first saw the movie The Sixth Sense, if you’re like me, you were stunned when you realized at the end of the show that the child psychologist, Dr. Crowe was actually dead. And the reason the troubled boy, Cole was able to talk with Dr. Crowe was because he sees “dead people.” Things were not as we thought. There was so much more going on than we realized at first.

That’s how it is with this passage from Luke 17. We know it’s a healing story of ten lepers, but there is more than the healing that happens. It has a turn at the end that surprises us.

The story unfolds in four parts:

The Setting (17:11-12)

The scene is set in the first two verses. In Luke’s gospel, Jesus has been journeying to Jerusalem since 9:51. What’s interesting is that every time Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem is repeated, it occurs in a context of correcting misunderstandings:

• In 9:51-56 Jesus has to correct his disciples about his role as the Elijah figure. When the Samaritans did not welcome Jesus, his disciples wanted to call down fire from heaven upon them, like Elijah did. Jesus stopped them.
• In 10:38-41 Jesus corrected a misunderstanding about who could be his disciple allowing Mary to remain at his feet rather than work in preparing the meal.
• In 13:22 Jesus explained that many will not be saved, but the first will be last and the last will be first.
• In 14:25 Jesus warned the crowds not to make rash decisions to follow him as a disciple—lose your life, carry your cross, count the cost.
• Now in 17:11 Jesus is going to address a misunderstanding about the supposed exclusivity of Israel. 

That’s why the geography becomes significant in the rest of verse 11. He is on his way to Jerusalem and he is traveling between Galilee and Samaria—along the border going from northeast to southwest between the two regions.

Galilee has been the Jewish/Gentile region where Jesus has been well received. Samaria was once where the northern kingdom was located after the division between the ten northern tribes and the two southern tribes under Rehoboam. Instead of worshiping at the temple in Jerusalem, the northern kingdom set up its own worship centers in Samaria focusing on Mount Gerizim.

When Israel originally entered the land, Deuteronomy 27—28 records that Israel was to set up large stones with the law on them and placed them on two mountains—Mt. Ebal and Mt. Garizim. Then when they passed between two mountain ranges, the priests were to proclaim cursings from Mount Ebal and blessings from Mount Gerizim. If you had to choose a mountain for worship, which would you choose? They chose Mt. Gerizim; but Mt. Ebal had an alter on it to provide for sin.

Then during the northern captivity under Assyria, one of the strategies was to assimilate the people by intermarrying, producing a people who were part Jewish and part Gentile. Consequently, the Jews looked down on the Samaritans.

So when Jesus was passing through the midst of Galilee and Samaria, he was in on the boarder of hostile territory.

Verse 12 tells us that as Jesus was entering some unidentified village, ten, men with leprosy met him standing at a distance. The fact that they are keeping themselves at a distance suggests that these men knew, and were following, the law of Moses in Lev. 13:45-46:

“As for the leper who has the infection, his clothes shall be torn, and the hair of his head shall be uncovered, and he shall cover his mustache and cry, ‘Unclean! Unclean!’

“He shall remain unclean all the days during which he has the infection; he is unclean. He shall live alone; his dwelling shall be outside the camp.”

The concept of being clean and unclean seemed to center around being in conformity to God’s design. For instance, land animals had legs and walked on the ground. Sea creatures had fins and swam in the sea. However, a lobster was considered to be unclean because it lived in the sea, but it had legs and walked on the ocean floor. 

It’s in this setting that Jesus and the lepers interact.

Jesus Heals Ten Lepers (Lk. 11:13-14)

So they raise their voice—“Jesus, sir, have mercy on us.” I don’t know who they understood Jesus to be. They clearly knew his name, but they also call him “Master” This is an impersonal, but respectful title. The term is ἐπιστάτα. It’s the word Peter used in Luke 5 when Jesus asked him to put out to sea after they had fished all night—“Sir, all through the night we fished and caught nothing.”

As I was running before church one week, I came upon a group of about 20 military personnel near the head of the Lakeshore Trail. They parted to let me through, and I said, “Good morning men!” And they said, “Good morning sir!” Respectful, but impersonal. It’s not the same word as “Lord.” 

I then think it is fascinating to hear what they ask Jesus to do. I would have thought they would have asked him to heal them, but they say: “Be merciful to us.” 

To be merciful is to be kind, compassionate, caring. I think they are asking for the heart of their need—mercy. They don’t just want his power; they want his compassion. 

In his Book for the House of Prayer, Rainer Maria Rilke described what it feels like to be in this isolated situation:

It’s possible I am pushing through solid rock

in flintlike layers, as the ore lies, alone;

I am such a long way in I see no way through,

and no space: everything is close to my face, 

and everything close to my face is stone.

This is what it feels like to need mercy. And what does Jesus do? Verse 14 tells us that he saw them! Do you know what it’s like to be seen when you’re suffering? So often we feel invisible. Nobody really knows; nobody really sees us; nobody really cares. 

Several years ago, I was running the Dallas Marathon. It was 42 degrees and a downpour the entire time. I was wet and chilled to the bone. It was so bad that at mile 18, I stopped in a port-o-let and thought to myself: “This is pretty nice. I could just stay here!” Well, I will never forget it. I was miserable. We had just finished running around White Rock Lake and were going under a bridge to the main road when a woman on the sideline looked at me, pointed to her eyes and then me, and said: “I see you!” I stopped. “You see me?” I said. “Yes, I see you.” she said. “Thank you.” I said and was encouraged enough to finish the race.

Jesus sees the lepers in their need for mercy. Jesus sees us in our need for mercy. We are not alone in our misery. Our struggle has his full attention.Then he speaks to them in another surprising statement in verse 14. He doesn’t say, “Be Healed!” but “Go, show yourselves to the priests. This was required in the Law.

Leviticus 14:1-11 states:

Then the LORD spoke to Moses, saying,

“This shall be the law of the leper in the day of his cleansing. Now he shall be brought to the priest, and the priest shall go out to the outside of the camp. Thus the priest shall look, and if the infection of leprosy has been healed in the leper, then the priest shall give orders . . .

The orders had to do with the sacrifices to be offered. What is interesting is that you would not go to the priest until you were healed, but the command implies that Jesus will act as they go. So, by going, they are showing their faith in what Jesus has told them to do.

There are so many of them, they have to go to priests, plural, for each one to be examined. We do not know where they will find the priests—maybe in Jerusalem, maybe at Mt. Gerizim. But they seem to know where to go.

So they go! And the narrator tells us that it came about in their going they were cleansed (καθαρίζω). This is another interesting choice of words to describe what happened to them. I would have expected him to say they were healed, but instead he uses a ritual word that relates to being clean and unclean.

In the Levitical scale of progression, they had moved closer to conformity to God’s design. This would have all kinds of social benefits for them. They could move from living outside the camp to living among the people; they could be reunited with their families; they could go to work. They were going to get their lives back in the community. Today it’s like testing negative for the Coronavirus or for AIDS. It’s like being told you’re healthy when you thought you had a life-threatening condition. So much in our life moves closer to normal again. And that is really good.

One Leper’s Response (Lk. 17:15-16)

Just as Jesus saw the lepers in verse 14, now in verse 15 one of the lepers sees what has happened to him. Once again, the verb has changed. They asked for mercy; they were cleansed; but this one sees what was hoped for all along—that he was healed (ἰάθη)! The verb is in the passive voice implying that the healing was done to him. His response tells us that he knows it was done by God.

What do we do when God answers our prayers? Do we tell others, or just forget? Long ago this was written about our human frailty:

‘Tis ever true; once saved, we show no gratitude

Once pity has been granted us, the thanks we swore

Would be undying, with our need’s end itself lies dead.

But the narrator tells us that the leper turned and with a great voice was glorifying God! In verse 13 the lepers asked for compassion raising their voice (φωνὴν), but here it is amplified as this one glorifies God with a great voice (φωνῆς μεγάλης). His response is greater / louder than their request! And what is he doing? He is describing for others the great compassion and healing that he has received from God. That is glorifying God—telling others what God has done in our life.

He then comes to Jesus, falls upon his face before Jesus’ feet and gives thanks to him (v.16). This common word for giving thanks is really a combination of two Greek words εὐ/χαριστέω “good” “grace.” When I was growing-up, we would often talk about saying “grace” before a meal. That idea seems to be in the word. We grace others with goodness when we give thanks, and that is what the man is doing here, in the most humble of postures. Whatever he thinks about Jesus, he sees that God worked through him. How often do we let others known when God touches our life through them?

And now the unforeseen ending of the story begins when the narrator tells us “and he was a Samaritan.” What? Why bring that up? What does it matter? Does it say anything about the other nine? This is part of the surprise ending.

Jesus’ Response (Lk. 17-19)

In Jesus’ response, he seems to pick up on this designation made by the narrator by asking three, insightful, rhetorical questions of those with him. At first Jesus appears to be talking to people other than the man who has returned.

I find that whenever God asks questions in the Scriptures that he is not looking for information. The questions are for those being asked like when he asks Adam and Eve:

• Where are you? (Gen. 3:10)
• Who told you that you were naked? (Gen. 3:11a)
• Have you eaten from the tree of which I commanded you not to eat? (Gen. 3:11b)

God knows the answer to all those questions. They are asked for the sake of Adam and Eve, not for God. So too here, these questions are not for information, but for those being asked—probably Jesus’ Jewish disciples:

• First, Jesus asks “Were not ten cleansed?” Implied answer, “Yes.”
• Second, Jesus asks: “And the nine, where (are they)? Implied answer: “not here.”
• Third, Jesus asks: “Were there not found returning to give glory to God, except this foreigner (or “other born” ἀλλογενὴς)? This word was used on a sign in the temple to warn all non-Jewish people not to enter farther. The distinction is between Jews and others.

The implication is that the other, nine lepers may have been Jewish, and they did not return to give thanks, only this foreigner! The whole story has been told from a Jewish perspective. The disciples are Jewish. They think they are on the inside. But here were nine other Jewish men who were shown mercy and cleansed but did not return to offer thanks.

You might say, “Well, they didn’t have to return to thank God. Maybe they gave thanks as they were going? They also exercised faith by going to the priests before they were ceremonially clean.” All of that is true! But Jesus’ questions imply something was wrong with what the other nine did. Read them again:

•  “Were not ten cleansed?”
•  “And the nine, where (are they)?
•  “Were there not found returning to give glory to God, except this foreigner?

I wonder what I would have done. I’m such a strict servant of rules. He said to go the priests. Certainly, that’s what I should do, right? Plus, if I’m healed, going, what’s to say I won’t become unclean again if I return?

But that kind of legalistic thinking is not how the narrative unfolds. Jesus seems to think something is out of place with the nine Jewish men who did not return to glorify God, and that there is something surprising about who did return—this outsider, this marginalized person, this Samaritan, this other born! He now is the measure of what was right, not the Jewish followers. This misunderstanding that there is favor based upon heritage is not only wrong but results in a thanklessness that comes from a feeling of entitlement.

Now the stare of his grace turns to the man who has returned. What he says is concise, but full of meaning: “And he said to him, rise, go, your faith has saved you.”

The stare of his grace has melted the man’s fears. He may freely stand up, and continue his journey to the priest, knowing that his faith has saved him. The verbs have progressed to a new level: compassion, cleansed, healed, saved! 

In terms of conformity to God’s design, the man has moved from unclean to clean, to now holy through his faith.

This Samaritan, this foreigner, has what the other nine were not given—salvation! They were physically healed, but he was also spiritually healed. This is so often how God works. He gives grace to all people—rain, sun, stars, air, food, land, minds, family—but to those who respond to what he has given, he gives more—salvation. In this sermon series, the focus has been on how “Thanks Leads to Giving.” The surprise in this passage is that our thanks leads to God giving to us! It’s not a legalistic formula—if I am thankful, I will receive from God. That’s backward. On the contrary, it was because the man was sincerely thankful that God recognized his faith and saved him.

So, what are we thankful for today? Do you have a hard time finding anything to be thankful for right now? If so, I understand. I’ve been there too. Maybe, this song by Michael Kelley Blanchard will help. I hope you will find yourself somewhere in these lyrics.

Who do you thank

at the gate of the dawn,

as the hounds of the night back away?

Who do you thank

  for the morning’s new song,

  sung by the birds as they pray?

Who do you thank

  for the sermon of sun

  preaching the hope of a new day begun,

  testifying that loves light has won.

Who do you thank for this kingdom come? 

Who do you thank

  for the knowledge of new

  that stands every shadow on end?

Who do you thank

  for the neighborhood tunes

  that hang in the breeze like old friends?

Who do you thank

  as the sky tumbles down,

  wraps it red robe round town after town,

  calls to the stars to start making their rounds,

Who do you thank as beauty abounds?

Thanks be to God

  for the wonder of living;

thanks be to God

  that it’s free.

Thanks be to God

  for the life that you’re given,

  resting in mercy,

  fragrant and kind,

  a holy design,

  living in awe.

Thanks be to God.

And who do you thank

  for the map of your mind

  that charters the course of your day,

  leaving you room in this canyon of time,

  to know what to look for and say?

Who do you thank

  for the mural of life,

  the savor of senses

  sharp as a knife,

  the privilege of poignant

  the honor of bright?

Who do you thank for delight?

Who do you thank

  for the treasure of home,

  wrapped in the real of routine;

  the honor of knowing your own flesh-and-bone

  and watching them wake from your dreams?

Who do you thank

  for the structure of souls

  tied to each other

  from infant to old;

  for beauty so human

  so holy to hold,Who do you thank for this gold?

Thanks be to God

  for the life that you’re living.

Thanks be to God

  that it’s free.

Thanks be to God

  that your shame is forgiven,

  taken away by the stare of His grace

  the look on His face

  has melted them all.

Thanks be to God

And who do you thank

  as your days tumble in

  and hang like sweet herbs in the hall?

Who do you thank

  as your moments begin

  to listen for their final call?

Who do you thank

  for the shape of your days?

Who do you thank

  for winning your ways?

Who do you thank for this primer of praise

  as spirit prepares to leave place?

Thanks be to God

  for the breath that you’re breathing.

Thanks be to God that it’s free.

Thanks be to God

  that though death may come stealing

  and take what it can,

  it can’t have what you own;

  your soul has a home

  beyond this sod.

Thanks be to God

  It’s beyond this sod.

Thanks be to God