Leviticus 13:  Anyone with such a defiling disease must wear torn clothes, let their hair be unkempt, cover the lower part of their face and cry out, ‘Unclean! Unclean!’  As long as they have the disease they remain unclean. They must live alone; they must live outside the camp.  Can you imagine the loneliness?  Can you imagine what it would be like to suddenly be uprooted from your family and community, your whole life, your clothes, your livelihood, and human contact?  Can you imagine everyones’ opinion of you turning on a dime?  Your religious leaders taught that those with leprosy  were living under God’s judgment because of some sin they had committed and here you now are, a suspect proven guilty by your circumstance.  Can you imagine your life and all you care about gone with the appearance of some skin blotches?  We hear the words “all you care about” and I think, sitting in church or listening to this sermon the hairs on our neck might stand up a little, and we might think, “Whoa!  The things we have here are not all we care about!  What about God?”  But remember, you’re on the outs there too.  For me, just imagining that scenario is depressing and terrifying.  In the Gospel for today, we see ten people caught in just such a nightmare.  They are stuck in sort of a limbo of being socially, religiously, and physically unclean.  They always had to remain at least 12 feet away from others.  They couldn’t be around town, so it seems that they set up camp along the paths going in and out of town and they begged passersby from a distance.  Can you imagine that?  Will I get to eat today?  If they gave you money, how on earth would you spend it?  How did this work?  Probably as I would imagine it, terribly, with an extra side of physical, mental and emotional suffering. There’s a lot of very interesting things going on in this reading, one of them being that there are 10 people with leprosy that have sort of bound themselves together into a community.  Ten was an important number because it was a number of completeness.  It took ten men to form a synagogue community.  I’m wondering if Luke was referencing this as a formed community.  What makes it interesting was that there was a Samaritan among them.  When Jesus answered their plea and told them to go show themselves to the priests, this would have become particularly apparent.  Notice their communal suffering and need for one another overrode their national/religious ties.  There’s this one guy that’s different though and when there is an opportunity to return to their old lives, the band breaks up.    Paul Tellstrom points out that quote, “The priests to whom the nine other lepers went, represented, after all, the religious institution that condemned the Samaritan-preached against him, reviled him, allowed him no grace, no love, and no acceptance for him whatsoever.  The people were taught from childhood to demean and feel superior to the Samaritan.” End quote.  So back to putting ourselves in the shoes of another.  Even in a group of outcasts, the Samaritan was different.  As he took off, I think that he realized something and that realization made a huge difference, actually, I think all the difference.  9 did not do anything wrong.  They were following Jesus’ directions.  They were headed back.  Back to the priests as the law required.  Back to their old lives.  Back to the kingdom of this world.  Back to where the Samaritan would no longer be welcome and a part of the community.  They were going back.  Something different happened with the Samaritan.  Did he catch himself and realize he would not be welcome with those priests?  It appears as though the realization he was healed and cleansed regardless of  to whom he presented himself and that it was God that healed him.  I think the realization and acknowledgement of God’s graceful action was key to his thankful heart.  The others were likewise healed, but the one that returned received something else.  The Samaritan didn’t go back but went forward.  Not back to the kingdom of this world but forward in Christ to God’s kingdom.  Not back to enmity but forward to mercy and reconciliation.  D. Mark Davis always has a terrific article examining the gospel in the original Greek, and that really matters in this lesson as three different words are used for what happens as a result of Jesus’ action. Καθαρίζω, ἰάομαι, and σῴζω. Καθαρίζω means to cleanse,   Ἰάομαι means to heal and  σῴζω means to save.  Davis writes, “I think it is to our loss that σῴζω has become reglionized (I made that word up) to mean “saved from sins/hell.” It can mean that, in certain contexts, but it means so much more than that in every context. I hear that term implying a kind of wholeness that was not there before, regardless of whether what was not ‘whole’ before is sin-related, danger, illness, or being a pariah. For Jesus to use σῴζω here signifies that there is more than the skin or infection that is at stake. This man can now return to his home, his family, his community, his work, his village … his life.” End quote.  We tend to hear “saved” and jump immediately to Jesus’ death and resurrection, but for this Samaritan that is still in the future.    It was so exciting to read one article by Karoline Lewis.  It brought this story into focus for me.  I was having a really hard time until I read this part.  She wrote, “But we are not there yet. No, he is saved because Jesus brings him back into community and he is saved because he sees that he can be a member of a community again. But, not just any community: the community of the Kingdom of God — where the ignored are favored. Where the disdained are redeemed (Psalm 111:9). Where those left out are those who live as we might — and should.” End quote.  He experiences the good news and responds with thankfulness moving forward into God’s grace, which is the hallmark of the kingdom of God.  It’s a real law/gospel thing.  9 did what was required by the law, the other responded to the realization of God’s love for him despite how the law had condemned him.  William Law, an 18th Century Anglican clergyman wrote these words: “Who is the greatest saint in the world?  It is not he who prays the most.  It is not he who gives the most money to the church – but it is he who is always thankful to God – who receives everything into their lives as an instance of God’s goodness and has a heart always ready to praise God for it.  Thankfulness leads us into a deeper journey with God than we ever imagined.” I think that thankfulness for what Jesus has first done for us is transformative and propulsive.  It propels us to be residents of the Kingdom of God where we live in love and service to one another.  Delmer Chilton, who, like me, also hails from North Carolina wrote, “Becoming a citizen of the kingdom of God frees us from our slavery to the here and now.  Becoming a citizen of the kingdom liberates us from our anxiety about worldly success.  Becoming a citizen of the kingdom releases us from bondage to our earthly treasure.  Becoming a citizen of the kingdom of God releases us to love God and neighbor with all our heart, mind, soul, strength and stuff.” I’m so thankful for the wisdom of others that have helped me to grow by reexamining from different angles, a story that I have known since childhood, a story that seemed to always end with the simplistic moral of “always remember to say thank you”.  It reframes the story from a seemingly scolding Jesus to the always gracious Jesus that points back to God and God’s love and mercy.  All ten were healed, but one moved forward to a new life in Christ, God’s kingdom, a life of gratitude.  Theologian Karl Barth said, “The basic human response to God is gratitude, not fear and trembling, not guilt and dread, but thanksgiving-gratefulness.   To have faith is to live faith, and to live faith is to give thanks.  Living into a real life of gratitude is to live a life of faith.”