On the way to Jerusalem Jesus was going through the region between
Samaria and Galilee. As he entered a village, ten men with a skin disease
approached him. Keeping their distance, they called out, saying, “Jesus, Master, have
mercy on us!” When he saw them, he said to them, “Go and show
yourselves to the priests.” And as they went, they were made clean.
Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising
God with a loud voice. He prostrated himself at Jesus’s feet and thanked
him. And he was a Samaritan. Then Jesus asked, “Were not ten made
clean? So where are the other nine? Did none of them return to give glory to God except this
foreigner?” Then he said to him, “Get up and go on your way; your faith has made
you well.”
Thanks Be to God
One: This is the word of the Lord
All: Thanks be to God
Sermon: ThanksGIVING
The Gospel of Luke tells us that Jesus is travelling through the region
between Samaria and Galilee.
That detail matters.
Jesus is on the long journey toward Jerusalem, a journey that begins in chapter nine and leads
toward confrontation, the cross, and resurrection.
Along the way, he keeps crossing boundaries and meeting people whom society has pushed aside.
He eats with those called sinners, welcomes children, speaks with women
as disciples, and tells stories in which outsiders reveal the grace of God.
Here, Jesus is literally in a borderland, between familiar territory and
foreign territory, between people who distrust one another.
Ten people living with a skin disease call to him from a distance.
Their illness is not only physical. They have been separated from family, worship, work, and
community. They are treated as dangerous and unclean. Their suffering
includes the loss of belonging. They cry out together, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.”
Jesus sees them. Before anything changes, he sees them. In a world that has trained
itself to look away from suffering, being truly seen is already an act of
mercy. Jesus does not ask who deserves help. He does not divide the
respectable from the suspicious. He sends all ten to the priests, the people
who can restore them to community, and as they go, they are made clean.
One person turns back. He praises God, falls at Jesus’ feet, and
gives thanks. Then Luke tells us that he is a Samaritan. To many of Luke’s
first listeners, that identity would have carried generations of religious and
ethnic hostility. Yet this supposed outsider becomes the example of faithful
response. The one expected to stand at a distance comes close. The one
others might dismiss recognizes grace and responds with his whole life.
Jesus asks, “Were not ten made clean? So where are the other nine?” This
is not a lesson in good manners, as though Jesus is checking whether
everyone wrote a thank-you note. All ten receive mercy. The difference is
that one allows gratitude to turn him around. His healing becomes more
than a private benefit. He returns, praises God publicly, and enters a new
relationship with Jesus and the community.
That is the heart of ThanksGIVING. Christian thanksgiving is not
simply feeling fortunate or listing what we possess. It is recognizing grace
and allowing that recognition to change our direction. The emphasis
belongs on giving because gratitude that never changes how we live is
incomplete.
This matters on Thanksgiving Sunday because gratitude can become
sentimental very quickly. Many of us will gather around tables, enjoy food,
and name the people and experiences for which we are thankful. These are
good and holy practices. Yet our tables do not exist apart from the world.
The food before us is connected to land, water, climate, farm workers,
migrant workers, truck drivers, grocery workers, and cooks. Our
celebrations take place while neighbours face food insecurity, unaffordable
housing, isolation, illness, war, and environmental loss. We give thanks on
the traditional, ancestral, and unceded territory of the Sḵwx̱wú7mesh
Úxwumixw, within a history that includes dispossession and the ongoing
work of truth and reconciliation. Honest gratitude does not hide these realities.
It opens our eyes to them.
It asks not only, “What have I received?” but also, “Who has been kept at a
distance, and what would restoration require?” Jesus’ mercy returns people
to relationship. Our thanksgiving must also move toward restored
relationships with Indigenous peoples, with neighbours experiencing
poverty, with newcomers and refugees, and with the earth itself.
In the United Church, we affirm that every person is made in the
image of God and that faith calls us to seek justice, resist oppression, and
live with respect in creation. Justice is not an optional addition to gratitude.
Justice is gratitude taking responsibility. When we advocate for affordable
housing, support food programs, welcome people across differences,
confront racism, honour Indigenous rights, and reduce harm to creation, we
are giving thanks with our lives.
The Samaritan also reminds us that wisdom and faith often come
from people whom the centre calls outsiders. The church must be humble
enough to receive their witness. Seekers, doubters, newcomers, people of
other cultures, people who have been harmed by religion, and people
whose lives do not fit old expectations may reveal God’s grace to us.
A just church does not merely welcome people into a space that remains
unchanged. It listens, shares power and allows the community to be
transformed.
There is one more detail worth noticing: the ten are healed “as they
went.” Their healing unfolds on the road. They move before they can see
the whole outcome. Faith sometimes looks like taking the next just and
compassionate step without knowing exactly where it will lead. We make
the call. We share the meal. We speak against harm. We repair a
relationship. We change a habit. We give time, money, attention, or
courage.
Along the way, grace becomes visible.
So, this Thanksgiving, let us receive our blessings with joy, but let us
not stop there. Let our thanks become giving. Let it become food shared,
burdens lightened, creation protected, truth spoken, and dignity restored.
Let it bring those kept at a distance back into the circle of community. Then
our gratitude will be more than words. It will become a way of following
Jesus.
May we be people who notice grace, turn toward its source, and rise to
continue the journey with thankful and generous hearts.
Let it be so, Amen.