Sermon preached by The Rev. Fredrick A. Robinson
The 20th Sunday after Pentecost
Have you seen the play “Our Town,” by Thornton Wilder? The setting of the play is a small town in New Hampshire about 110 years ago, but Wilder makes it clear that what he is trying to portray is not confined to this one small town, but is the heart and soul of American life. There is basically no scenery, so our imaginations can have full sway in filling in all of the details from our own experience. The play has no boundaries in time or space. It speaks to that aspect of our human experience that is universal.
In the third and final act, we are indeed taken out of time and space into the place of departed spirits. One of the main characters, Emily, who died in childbirth, has just arrived. She misses life, and wants to go back. So she is given that opportunity, and she chooses to go back on her twelfth birthday. What she discovers when she goes back is how wonderful life is each day, and how everyone takes the gift of life for granted. She screams at the world, without being heard, of course, saying, “Don’t you know what you have?!” And then she returns to the place of departed spirits, saddened by her revelation.
Through the play itself, we are really being asked the same question: “Don’t you know what you have?!” The gift of life is so precious, so valuable, and you hardly ever notice it, hardly ever take time to give thanks.
There is much the same message in today’s Gospel. Ten lepers were healed by Jesus, but only one takes the time and trouble to go back and thank him. Leprosy in that day was the name given to a host of skin disorders. Perhaps a person had boils on his skin, or a severe case of psoriasis. Persons with such disorders had to live outside of normal human society, and when anyone approached had to cry, “Unclean!”
The ten lepers whom Jesus healed had much for which to be thankful, for now they could lead normal lives. They could make a living, live in society, have a family, and worship in the Temple. Jesus had made them whole.
Why didn’t the other nine return to thank Jesus? Perhaps they were so excited they forgot, or maybe they didn’t want to lose any more time in going about the business of living. Or maybe some of them wondered if it really was Jesus who had cured them. Perhaps some of them were bitter about their experience as lepers, still too bitter to feel any kind of gratitude. Life had dealt them a hard blow, something they could never forgive or forget.
Whatever the reasons, they did not thank the one who had made them whole. In recounting this story, St. Luke might have been saying something about human nature and the nature of holy living. He was lifting up the one who gave thanks as a good example of faithful living, while at the same time pointing to the fact that most of us, most of the time, like the nine lepers and like the people in “Our Town,” do not have an attitude of gratitude.
St. Luke may also have been implying something else in telling the story of the one who gave thanks. I would guess that each of us would identify with the one who gave thanks. “If Jesus were to cure me of my leprosy, then I would certainly go back and give thanks.” That is the Christian response, not only to a cure for a specific disease, but to all of life. Jesus has made us whole. Through him we are given new life, the forgiveness of sins, and brought into the fellowship of his Body. It isn’t by accident that the principle form of worship in the Church from earliest times was called eucharist, from the Greek word eucharistia, which means thanksgiving. We are a people who give thanks.
We are embarking again on a pledge drive, in which we are challenged to think seriously and pray about our stewardship. The reason we Christians give to God of our time, talent, and treasure, is that we are saying thank you to God for life itself, for our new life in Christ, for all that we have and all that we are. Our stewardship springs from our attitude that in the midst of our joys and sorrows, of our wholeness and our brokenness, of our victories and defeats, we still must give thanks in tangible ways for the love of Christ. As his Body, we have been given so much, and we respond by giving.
As you consider your stewardship response in making your pledge for 2011, I urge you to do it in a spirit of thanksgiving, whatever your gift may be. It is my hope that everyone will make a pledge. This is a challenging year, and yet we have so much for which to be thankful. May we answer Emily’s question by saying, “Yes, I do know what I have and I am thankful.” May we each be like the one leper made whole, who did return and give thanks.