Tellico Village Community Church

Sermons

October 11, 1998

Luke 17:11-19

If you can't picture in your mind the tragic misery of what it meant to be a leper in Jesus' day, perhaps you can at the very least imagine the woeful sound of the tinkling of their bells. Lepers were required to wear these devices about their necks so that normal people could be warned that lepers were in the vicinity. Indeed, every effort was made to keep normal members of society safe from these diseased, debilitated, often-deformed and essentially doomed persons. Can you hear the bells tinkling in the distance this day as Jesus comes to a village somewhere between Samaria and Galilee?

Luke invites us to look in the direction of the sound, and there - at its source - are ten pitiful creatures standing at a distance. They are not permitted into the village, but live outside in a rat-infested ghetto reserved just for people like themselves. But each day, they venture to the gates of the village to beg alms from those generous enough to toss them a coin or a piece of bread.

They stand apart because not only normal society considers them unclean and outcast. Oh no, its even worse than that! For in that insidious way that both disease and society share of stripping people of their God-given humanity, these poor people have been worn down to the point where even they think of themselves not as persons, but as lepers. Those of you who have ever suffered from a disease like cancer, or who have endured a spinal accident, or who have lost sight or hearing know what this is all about. For after a time of being referred to as the woman with cancer, or that paraplegic, or the deaf guy, or blind woman, its easy to become identified not as a person, but as a disease.

So there they are. Standing at a distance. Warning bells tinkling away with every movement.

Then they call out, "Jesus! Master! Have mercy upon us!"

And you know how the rest of the story goes. Jesus' heart breaks for them, and out of his wonderful sense of redemptive love, Jesus says, "Go and show yourselves to the priests." This is a reference to Leviticus 14:2-32 where healed lepers could gain admission back into the normal population only by being carefully examined and certified as clean by a priest.

And, as Luke describes the moment, the lepers take off for the synagogue, bells ringing as they go. And as they respond to Jesus' instruction, they are made clean by some incredible divine power that neither they nor we can fully understand.

And that's where there's a significant twist in the story.

As one of the lepers - a Samaritan - runs into the city and experiences his healing, he stops in his tracks. You and I can only imagine how he feels as he begins to realize what has happened to him. You can almost see him taking the bell that hangs from his neck, ripping it off and throwing it - and the past it represents - into the gutter. And then this man - this one man - this one Samaritan man - goes running back to Jesus - the source of his blessing - where he collapses at the Master's feet and sobs two simple words.

I think the first time I ever preached a sermon on this text, it boiled down to the thought that we should be thankful for our blessings like the one man, and not thankless like the other nine. And everyone sort of came out of church that Sunday saying, "Right on, Rev. People SHOULD count their blessings. People SHOULD be more thankful. People SHOULD NOT take their blessings for granted.

Today, I think back on that sermon and feel a little embarrassed. I feel like saying, "Duh!" After all, its not exactly headline news to any of us that people should be more thankful.

And now - after a few years of cuddling up with this text - I realize that's not really what Jesus was trying to get at that day. For the question Jesus asks about the other nine is not what we might think it would be.

Jesus does not ask the obvious question, "WHY are they not thankful?"

Rather, Jesus asks this question: "Where ARE they?"

It is not a question about being thankful for blessings. Surely all ten of the lepers were happy as larks. Surely all ten were thankful and filled with gratitude and probably celebrating with a big party down at the local American Legion Post.

But nine chose to go in one direction. And one chose to go in another.

May I ask you: Where are YOU going with the blessings you've received?

A colleague of mine tells the story of a woman named Ellie.

She first met Ellie far from her home in Americus, GA. They were standing in the middle of the sun-baked clay near the village of Adony, Hungary, bladed spades in hand, chipping out the concrete-like dirt from what would soon become footings for five new homes. It was hot, the kind of hot where the sweat stings your eyes. The kind of hot where the sun beats down on the back of your neck, stealing every bit of strength from your body. The kind of hot when the inside of your head feels like a pressure cooker and your brain is on slow boil. It was very… very…very hot.

Yet, there she was, 77 years old, battling the spade as the blade quickly dulled against the unyielding ground. Throwing her whole body into every jab of the handle, leaning into the shovel - battling for each small scoop of broken earth. And it was pretty obvious that her war with the hard ground was one which she would lose. Her breath was labored and great drops of perspiration rolled down the tip of her nose, cutting trails across her dirty face. The drops would linger a moment and then splash into the brown dust at her feet.

My colleague couldn't help but wonder, "Why in the world is she here?"

You see, Ellie had spent the last 40 years of her life living at a place called Koininia Farms -- a Christian community which Clarence Jordan had formed. It was a Christian community predicated on the promise of Acts, a Christian community where everything was shared in common. It was the place where the Cotton Patch Gospel was written, the place that eventually became the home of a young man named Millard Fuller. It was the place which would give birth to a ministry known as Habitat for Humanity.

Ellie's story was an amazing tale. It was a tale of joy and hope and victory. But it was also a tale of sadness and horror and pain. She remembered so well how they carried Clarence Jordan's body from one mortuary to the next, searching desperately for someone who might have the courage to bury him. For indeed, to reach out to the folks of Koininia Farm meant to flirt with the violence of those who hated this community where blacks and whites lived together in Christian unity.

But more than anything else, Ellie's story was a tale of God's continuing revelation in the world. Without question, she had been blessed beyond measure. Yet, there she was, all 77 years and 92 pounds of her. Scratching the dirt with her dull shovel.

At lunch, as they sat huddled in the sparse shade offered by the lone tree on what was once a thousand acre farm, my colleague asked her, "Ellie, you have lived such an amazing life. Why in the world are you here in this horrible place."

Ellie looked at my friend for a long, long moment. Then she placed a wrinkled hand on her shoulder. Ellie gently smiled and said, "Where else could I possibly be…where else could I be?"

Dear friends, one of the most significant questions that will ever be asked of you is not "Are you thankful for your blessings?" but rather, "Where are you going with them?"

Nine cleansed lepers take their gift and thankfully run with it back into the personal dimension of normal life. We never hear from them again.

One cleansed leper takes his blessing - and recognizing a God-dimension to it - lays it at the feet of Jesus.

Where are you going with the blessings you've received?

Here today we gather as a community of people whose lives have been blessed in so many ways. And I think, for the most part, we're pretty thankful people.

But I want to challenge you this morning with the need to see a God-dimension to every blessing. And I want to challenge you to thankfully bring your blessings and place them before God. He will show you how you can bring that fantastic gift of your intelligence to a place where it can change peoples' lives. He will lead you to the place where your technical skill, or your financial resources, or your knowledge of computers, or your available time, or just the strength of your body can be put to use for His glory. The Lord will guide you into bringing your experience of having been healed, or forgiven, or loved by God to those who need to hear you tell the story.

Where are you going with the blessings you've received?

Your answer makes all the difference in the world!