2 Timothy 2:8-15; Luke 17:11-19

I am certain that if we were to have a dialogue sermon between the pastor and those of you in the congregation and choir, we would come up with a number of things for which we are thankful. Being thankful is part of our very being as Christians. Just think for a moment about those things for which you are truly thankful: the rain that has fallen on a dry, parched earth over the past several days; the opportunity to be together in worship and praise, to say and sing with the Psalmist "Cry out with joy all people on earth. Sing to the honor of God'’ name, Make the praise of God glorious. Say to the Almighty, '‘how awesome are your deeds.’" (Ps. 66:1-2). Consider our collective thanksgivings as we were caught up in last Sunday’s World Communion Service with its readings, songs, prayers and sermon. And did one of us not give thanks for the service of ordination for Martha Highsmith and the challenging sermon of your former pastor, Ross M. Ludeman who began by saying to us all: "We come together here today in celebration of God’s call to God’s people. It is our joy and journey to discern what form and shape that call has for each of us as we share life in the Body of Christ. As we venture into that discovery we may be surprised when the clarity is given and opportunity is at hand." I am thankful for that challenge. I am thankful that we were all reminded of our "vocation", our call to be followers of Christ.

There are many, many other occasions for giving thanks. I give thanks that a dear friend’s surgery was a success; I give thanks that another dear friend who is walking through the "…valley of the shadow of death"is truly fearing no evil and is maintaining strong faith and hope, and looking forward to seeing his Lord. I give thanks for you and that we have been drawn together for ministry in the comings months. I give thanks for my colleagues who strengthen me each day by their presence, professionalism, and dedication to this small part of the Kingdom of God. I gave thanks last Monday night as I sat with your Pastor Nominating Committee on the occasion of its first meeting. The spiritual energy and excitement was palpable and the enthusiasm for the task was a joy to experience. For this committee, we should all give thanks and offer prayers for them each day. Or, if not each day, then most certainly on Monday evenings at 7:00. Finally, we give thanks for family and friends; those who support and uplift us; those who care for us when we are down; those who rejoice with us when we rejoice; those children in the Nursery School I greet each week day, their enthusiasm and joy. I’m thankful that they are glad to see "Pastor Walter" come in the room. You, no doubt, have your own list. We all have a sense of what it is like to "be thankful."

Because of that heart-felt knowledge, it is not difficult to live ourselves into the story of the ten lepers who approached Jesus. We don’t know exactly the nature of the disease, but can surmise that it referred to inflammatory or scaly skin-disease. Sufferers so afflicted were therefore excluded from normal association with others and often had to live outside of towns (Num. 5:1-3).

What did the lepers hope for when they cried out, "Jesus, Master, Have mercy on us," alms only? That would be normal. Or did they expect more? Jesus’ reputation had gone before him and they addressed him as "Master." And Jesus had mercy, and said to them "God and show yourselves to the priest." As it turned out, at least one of the ten was a Samaritan, and presumably the others were Jews.

This beautifully fashioned story of the leper who returned to give thanks has an irresistible appeal. We like gracious people who know how to acknowledge gifts given them and who find appropriate ways to express gratitude to the giver. As my mother often said, "It shows good breeding." This story is a favorite for services of worship during the Thanksgiving weekend. But here the gospel lesson meets us today, in October, and we are able to consider the notion of giving thanks apart from turkey, pumpkin pie, jammed airports, crowded trains and families being together.

Ironically, the one in the story who returns to give thanks is not, from the vantage point of the narrative, well-bred, but a person of mixed breed, who may have been the least likely of the group of lepers to do what he does.

Several themes emerge from this text that I think are instructive for us all. One theme has to do with "faith." The leper who returns becomes a model of faith. Earlier in the gospel narrative the disciples are warned by Jesus not to become stumbling blocks to others and in response to this directive the disciples cried out, "Increase our faith." We considered that request last week and were told by Jesus that faith could not be weighed and measured in pounds and ounces. Rather Jesus suggested that faith is the simple reality of trust, as small as the size of a mustard seed which, when planted, grows into the largest of trees.

Another observation is that the Samaritan alone returns to give thanks in a most vocal way. He praises God "with a loud voice" and falls at Jesus’ feet and thanks him. I imagined that scene in the Gospel and thought I might have seen something like that on television.

I am watching the re-runs of the splendid television production, "The Jewel in the Crown," on Thursday evenings after choir. "The Jewel in the Crown", for those of you who may not be familiar with it, is a marvelous television series of stories from the book, "The Raj Quartet," which traces the decline of British India through the 2d. War. In the episode I watched last Thursday, the viewer sees a British Commander inspecting several men who some soldiers thought were Indian spies. It turns out that one of the so-called spies had served under him in another part of India. When the Indian soldier recognized his commander, he fell to his knees, grasped the commander around the legs and wept with joy for having found him. My sense was, upon viewing that scene, that that action was pretty close to what the Samaritan did. The Samaritan, in giving thanks, experienced more than just healing from leprosy. He was able to see beyond his whole body to the one who made it whole. His actions of delight and gratitude, which distinguish him from the other lepers, demonstrate his trust in Jesus. The Samaritan leper could easily have said with the Psalmist: "Praise our God all peoples: and let the sound of praise be heard. God has preserved us among the living: and kept our feet from stumbling. For you O God have tested us: and refined us as silver is refined. You led us into the snare: but you have brought us out into a place of liberty." For that Smaritan leper, the place of liberty was the healing and wholeness and a sense of true gratitude towards the one who said, "Your faith has made you well."

Luke repeatedly shows fellow feeling for the semioutcast Samaritans; and it is evident here that he took delight in the grateful witness of a foreigner. Perhaps he stressed the story because it explained why the Christian "way" had been carried so directly to the Gentiles: the Jews, who had first chance, had despised the day of gladness. The patience of God is not without limit: if God finds no response in one person, God may move to another.

And another theme that strikes me as instructive for us all is this: those who did not return to give thanks. Jesus takes a dim view of the lack of gratitude of the nine. Jesus takes a dim view of their failure to praise God. Thus, we are made quite aware that not all who are helped by Jesus come to faith. Some take the help, perhaps, as a sign of what they deserve. Others are perhaps too busy with the new possibilities for a restored life to engage in the unbounded response of the Samaritan. They become models for what faith is not.

As we approach our stewardship season, I trust we will frame our responses in the context of "giving thanks." To push the analogy a bit, I am certain that some of you are like the nine who did not give thanks. Your giving is from someplace other than a thankful heart, even though you have much for which to be thankful. I challenge all of us to consider the depth of our thanksgiving and let that depth guide us as we consider our financial support for this active congregation in 1999.

How do we become thankful? It takes humility of spirit and sensitivity to the kindness and goodwill of others. The grateful person regards another'’ act of kindness and experience of God'’ grace with profound appreciation. Life itself is a gift.

I cannot think of being thankful that I do not recall the words of "Now Thank We All Our God", the hymn which will close our worship this morning. For thirty-two years the author, Martin Rinkart, was the pastor of the Lutheran Church in his home town village in central Germany. He ministered during the devastating Thirty Years War, 1618-1648, which began between the Protestant German princes and the Catholic Habsburgs. Before it was all over, war, famine, and disease had devastated many a European country. In 1637 disease ravaged his community and he buried 4,000 of the 8,000 who died. It was in the midst of all this that he wrote: "Now thank we all our God with heart and hands and voices, who wondrous things has done, in whom the world rejoices, who from our mothers’ arms, has blessed us on our way with countless gifts of love, and still is ours today."

Let our thanks be rich, deep and heartfelt, for all the blessings our God has given to us, even those blessings that come to us in disguise.

References:George Buttrick, "The Gospel According to St. Luke"; Alan Culpepper, "Luke"; The Anchor Bible Dictionary, "Leprosy" and "Samaritans"; LindaJo McKim, "The Presbyterian Hymnal Companion." Cousar, Gaventa, McCann, Newsome, "Texts for Preaching."