The Breakaway Samaritan

Everyone has heard of the title “The Good Samaritan” applied to the familiar parable about the man who helped the wounded traveler, who had been stripped, beaten, and left half dead by robbers. Today, we engage a widely known miracle of Jesus, in which ten lepers are healed, which I would like to call “The Breakaway Samaritan. In this experience, ten lepers cry out to Jesus for mercy, and then go, as instructed by Jesus, to show themselves to the priests. All are healed, but the one man, healed of leprosy, breaks away from the others, returning to thank Jesus. We learn that this man is a Samaritan, and we can see that he, once healed, is one thankful man. He starts out doing as Jesus has ordered, going to show himself to the priests. But when he discovers he has been made clean, exuberant joy takes over: he turns back, loudly praising God and falling down on his face before Jesus.  In one way this man had it so wrong because he halted the instructions that Jesus gave him. But in another way, it was counted as good. It is asserted that he did a good thing.

All ten lepers did initially as Jesus had instructed, they headed straight for the priests to let them inspect the condition of their skin. This Samaritan, however, discovering he was healed, halted the mission of Mosaic law and followed the law of his heart and emotions.

Let’s consider for a moment what did the nine have right. Going straight to the priests was what Jesus told them to do and that was the right move. For one thing, the sooner they receive an official clean bill of health from the priests, the sooner they can re-enter society. As lepers, they lived apart, outside the village, they could not work as they once did; they could not be with their family or their community. As a second thing. Completing the task of this official inspection conforms to the Law of Moses, and conforms to this very special rabbi’s instruction. The nine had that right. But let’s back up. Even before this experience, we surmise they were going with prescribed conduct. All ten were right to keep their distance, as leppers were required to do, to protect the safety of those who were not sick. Also, they addressed Jesus as “Master” as they called out to him for mercy. Also, asking mercy implies confidence in the power of Jesus to cleanse and heal. Perhaps they had heard of other healing acts of Jesus.

Giving thanks is not required by the law; showing yourself to the priests is required. But this Samaritan was powerfully moved to break away and give thanks. What was he thinking? He may not have been thinking at all. He seems overcome with excitement and gratitude. He was caught up in the mystery and miracle; interfacing with Jesus had cured him. He is overcome with excitement; he is overcome with gratitude. He halts his assignment, turning back to give thanks, naturally perceiving that Jesus was the source of his cleansing. Then, what an embarrassing display! He is not at all Episcopalian about this. He goes back, shouting praise to God out loud, not quietly and reverently. He doesn’t find an acolyte to lead him back to Jesus, singing one of the lovely canticles of praise. He just goes, wildly back to Jesus, seemingly driven, shouting his praises aloud. Then he flops face-first, on the ground, at the feet of Jesus. The onlookers might have been wondering, “what’s the Rabbi going to say? What’s he going to do?”

The implications of the man’s actions are provocative. He is praising God in a loud voice and is prostrate before Jesus. The Master does not dispel the implication of attaching praise to God and presence before him, rather, he reinforces it. Jesus says, "Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they? Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?"  With little subtlety, Jesus is pairing the Samaritan’s return to him with offering praise to God. He indicates it is what all ten might have done. Wow.

I have previously always seen this story as a lesson for us all to be grateful, for us all to give thanks. On one level this is a lesson for cultivating a grateful heart and expressing that thanks. Do you remember your own experience of what you may have done with children or grandchildren? Do you remember going to your grandparent’s home, being presented a little gift for the occasion, and hearing your parents remind you, “Say thank you.” This is the way of teaching the habit of manners. You know: Mr. Rogers taught us this—please, thank you, I’m sorry, excuse me, I forgive you. We were all taught these expressions of courtesy. In one way, I have always thought of this miracle as a lesson for us about cultivating a heart of thanks.

But there is more here, isn’t there? This is a kind of revelation. It is a revelation first of the habit of thanksgiving, cultivating gratitude, and the courtesy of expressing thanks. But it is also a revelation, very deep, to recognize and receive the mystery that Jesus Christ is God.

All ten lepers are cleansed. Among them, there might have been more than one Samaritan in the group, but this one Samaritan, cleansed, discovered that this rabbi—dust on his feet, sweat in his hair—is also God. He discovers this, and he gives praise to God in the presence of Jesus. The disciples all would discover this. If they had not already, through the miracles Jesus had done, they would when he is crucified, killed, and raised from the dead. They all would come to know that Jesus is God.

Paul comes on board a bit later using a revelation from the risen Lord. Through this vision, he comes to understand that Jesus is God. And that is why, when he writes to Timothy, a young leader of a community of faith, says to him: “Remember Jesus Christ, raised from the dead, a descendant of David, (yes, human, and yet the Christ, the Messiah) and that is my gospel,” he says, “for which I suffer hardship, even to the point of being chained like a criminal.” (2 Timothy 2:8-9) He is saying, “That is my Good News; that is what I want to communicate. I am willing,” he says in this Epistle, (paraphrased) “to suffer anything, because of who Jesus is: to suffer hardship, to be treated as a criminal, to be chained up.” “If we have died with him,” Paul writes, “we will also live with him.” It’s as though Paul, writing to Timothy is saying, “Remember that. Do you get it? This one to whom we are related is God, our full security for eternity is intact in him.” That is also why Paul was eager to write to the Colossians (1:15) such a remarkable thing. He says He (Jesus) is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation.” He says of Jesus, (Col. 2:9-10) “In him, the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily, and you have come to fullness in him.” They get it. They are blown away by it. They are thankful for it. They would do anything for him, who had done all that for them.

And that is our lesson as well. I think we should take both lessons with us and remember them every day. First of all, it is good to have the habit of thanksgiving, to cultivate hearts of gratitude, and to express it: to say “thank you” and mean it. But also, the second lesson: to let ourselves go—let the mystery of what Christ has done in us sweep us away. We cannot live in such a heightened state of attention to the mystery, but once in a while, when our attention is piqued, we can allow for it to come out in tears, in laughter, in the emotion of worship. Again, we won’t live there all the time: we cannot. But can we at least avail ourselves of the soul-lifting mystery of Christ’s redeeming work in us? It lifts us and bears us up. We can feel it. We can know it, and we can express it to others. That is what happens to the breakaway Samaritan. Once a sorrowful leper, he becomes a most grateful person.

Remember to say thank you. Also, get into this mystery, this One who has taken you, who is your redeemer, your savior, the one who heals and cleanses you, securing you for eternity. Let that good news sweep you away. Amen.