The story begins innocently enough. Jesus, traveling south to Jerusalem, is going through a region between Galilee and Samaria.

Hmm. Not much here, really.

I mean, literally....not much in this region between Galilee and Samaria. If you look at a climate map of this region, you’ll see it’s mostly brown.  

It’s a desolate, baked, barren region, for the most part. When Luke tells his readers that Jesus was going through the region between Galilee and Samaria, well, it’s sort of like someone today talking about a van load of skiers traveling from Missouri to the Mountains. C’mon, we all know how folks from other states look at us--western Kansas and Eastern Colorado. “Best to get through there during the night,” they’ll say. “Drove for miles across flat, dusty plains.”

That’s what Luke is saying. Jesus was going through a region where nothing much was expected to happen. He’d been in Galilee--the area where he’d grown up--around Nazareth, and he was going to Jerusalem, the city with the Temple and the center of Jewish life. And between Galilee and Jerusalem, was Samaria, and particularly, this region along the border between Galilee and Samaria, well....you get the picture.

Traveling through, the group comes upon a dusty village out here in the hinterlands. Luke doesn’t tell us whether it’s simply a pit stop to get some water, some food, or whether they are looking for a place to spend the night. As they enter the village, several clumps of human flesh greet them. Lepers. Standing at a distance, for Lepers know fully well the distance they are required to keep by the law of Moses. If they had had cardboard and markers in those days, they surely would have had signs propped up in front of their pitiful forms.

Jewish tradition had very clear rules for lepers. Jewish tradition demanded that lepers remain outside the village or encampment, a safe distance from others. The law forced them to leave their hair ungroomed, and to rip their clothing so as to be easily identified. If that weren‘t enough, the law instructed them to put their hands over their lips and shout out to anyone in danger of coming too close "Unclean, Unclean."

Can you imagine? A life of never again being welcomed or greeted?

Never again being touched, embraced, kissed? To live as something less than a human being, only to be pitied, or worse, scorned? With no possibility to eat but to beg? That’s what the lepers are doing at the entrance to the village after all. Begging, calling out for mercy.

They call for Jesus to show them some compassion, perhaps a crumb of bread, a small jug of water. Some meat if they were truly blessed. “Have mercy on us!” they call out. But the mercy Jesus shows them is much more than they might have ever imagined. The mercy Jesus shows them is more indicative of the character and nature of God than the character or nature of the ones calling out for mercy. For what follows is nothing short of a gift.

In the church, we call such gifts, grace. The surprising, undeserved gifts of God.  Grace.

Jesus graces the lepers. “Go show yourselves to the priests.”

What?

“Go show yourselves to the priests?” These words could only mean one thing. They were no longer unclean. They were no longer lepers. They were no longer diseased. Their time at the village gate begging has ended. Show themselves to the priests! Indeed...as they scurry away to the priests, their disease left them. They were cleansed of their disease. Only because the Son of God graced them that day. Cleansed, only because the Savior of the World decided to do so. Cleansed, only because Jesus felt like giving them the gift that would return their life to them.

Jesus graced the ten lepers. And they all went away, clean. Healed. Cured.

Of the ten, it appears that one....just one of the ten recognizes this most amazing gift that has been given to him. Upon seeing his new, vibrant skin--he makes the sudden realization that he had been given an extraordinary gift!

And he does what most of us do when we have that “aha” moment that we have been the recipient of a generous gift. His heart is filled with gratitude, and he returns to say thank you.

He does so by laying down, face down in the dirt, and thanked Jesus.

Jesus takes notice of him, lying there. And....he takes notice of the nine that are no where to be seen. And...he takes notice that this one lying before him, pouring out his gratitude, is a Samaritan.

Samaritans weren’t thought of much, nor were they thought much of, by Jews. And Jews weren’t thought of much, nor were they thought much of, by Samaritans. So Jesus is struck by the fact that this fellow, here on his face at Jesus’ feet, is a Samaritan. The last one anyone might have expected to come back to give thanks for the healing he had experienced.

But he’s the only one.

Not much of a return, really. One in ten. You’d think there would have been more. What’s a fair number? Hmm? What would have been a reasonable number. We’d like to see all ten return, but what would we have settled for, if we were the gift-giver?

Send out ten envelopes with money in them to the grandkids for Christmas, how many thank you notes might you expect to get back? Hmm? Go deliver food baskets around the holidays, how many will show their appreciation? Put shoes on 10 kids, and what’s the return? Wouldn’t it be great if maybe half showed their gratitude? Or, at the least...at the VERY LEAST maybe 2 or 3 for every 10? Wouldn’t that be nice?

But the return is usually about what Jesus experienced. Half don’t come back. Two or three don’t return to say thank you for the healing Jesus had graced them with.

Nope. Just one. And this one...a foreigner. Doesn’t speak the right language. Doesn’t eat the right food. Doesn’t wear the right clothes. Doesn’t worship the right way. This is the one that comes back however, and in a most profound show of humility and affection...says thank you.  Just one out of ten.

Makes me almost disgusted. Disappointed at the least. Would it have been asking too much for more than just one out of the ten to come back?

One in ten is a pretty pitiful return, really. When you consider all Jesus had given them. One in ten is pretty small, almost insignificant number when you stop and realize what Jesus had done for them....done for them all!

But then...one in ten, that’s all God ever really asks for, isn’t it?  For all that God does for us. For all that God gives us. For the very life that Jesus has given us by giving up his own life on a cross. And for all of that....for ALL OF THAT....God’s word suggests that we might return...one in ten.

A tithe.  Ten percent.

But you might think no one really tithes anymore.  Well, the truth is, a few, grateful people do. And you know why I think they do? Because something occurs to them--that they have been given a gift. No, that they have been given many, many gifts. Gifts they didn’t deserve. Gifts they didn’t expect. And when it occurs that these gifts have come from God’s own hand, it fills the heart with gratitude. A lot like the tenth leper.

You see, when we talk about tithing, giving a minimum of ten percent of all that comes to you, it seems like so much. It seems like such a large amount.

But it’s just one in ten. One part for every ten parts you have been given. And it’s all that God requires. One in ten.

A pretty small return, really, when you think about it.

When the tenth leper returns, Jesus looks at him, and says to him, “Get up and go. Your faith has saved you,” or some translations say “your faith has made you well or whole.”

I used to get confused at this point. Ten were healed. Jesus himself says so. Then he says to the leper on the ground, your faith has made you well. What made the others well, then?

And then I learned a little Greek. (A very little, as it turns out.) But enough to understand that Luke uses three different words to describe the healing of the lepers. Jesus talks of them being “made clean” in verses 14 & 16, the greek word here is “katharizo.”   Then Luke uses a different greek word  which means “cure or healing” in verse 15 as he describes what happens to all ten lepers--the word is “iaomai.”  But when it comes to the tenth leper who returns, Jesus says to him, your faith has made you “well,” or “soizo.”

Now, soizo is the word for salvation used throughout the new testament, when referring to God’s work through Jesus, saving people from sin and death.  Sozo.  Your faith has saved you. Made you well. Completely whole. One with God. Never to fear again.  Soizo.

The symptom of this soizo, this wholeness--I believe, is gratitude.

The symptom of wellness is a grateful heart. The evidence of being saved--do you follow me here? The evidence of being saved in this story, is the humble return with thankfulness, the recognition that what you have received is from God.

I think the same is true for us. The symptom of wellness--is gratitude. The symptom of wholeness is thanksgiving. The evidence of salvation is a heart filled with gratitude which moves us to return to our Savior, our Redeemer demonstrating our thankfulness.

We are left then to assess our own wholeness, wellness. Just as we can measure illness by recording our temperature, our blood pressure, our pulse, so we can also measure our wellness. We can measure our wellness, indeed, our salvation, by measuring our gratitude.

All receive the Amazing Grace offered by God. Indeed, ten lepers were cured. But one became whole, measured by his generous, unfettered, grateful return.