the one who turned back

I’m grateful my professor of preaching who years ago introduced me to this poem by the poet William Carlos Williams. 

It is difficult
to get the news from poems
      yet men die miserably every day
            for lack
of what is found there.

Reflecting on the poem, he asked me to consider what news may be found in a sermon that is truly life-giving news. The news of the world is relentless and ever present. Consider a different news that is life-giving. 

For instance, the gospel for Sunday focused on the episode where Jesus heals ten men with a skin-disease who pleaded with him for mercy. (Luke 17:11-19)  He says to the ten: go show yourselves to the priests. It’s a puzzling command, but they follow it, and along the way there are “made clean.” The keep going toward the priests, except for one of them who turns back to give thanks. That’s where news happens.  Here is an excerpt from my sermon.

______

I can understand the nine. Can you? They had the dazzling possibility in their minds, confirmed by their skin, that the horrible past was over.  Maybe it’s like the times when you say to yourself – when things settle down, I’ll write that thank you card or make a call to the one who helped me when in need. Yet, when things settle down – whatever that means. Do things ever really settle down for any of us? The moment passes. The thank you remains unspoken, unwritten, and eventually forgotten in the swiftly moving flow of life. Such good intentions forgotten are embedded in the fabric of our lives, woven out of the deeds done and left undone, the words said and left unsaid. 

Perhaps that is the way of the nine. Who really knows? Presumably, having received the approval of the shocked priest, they will carry on happily in their new lives – just as Jesus intended for them when he healed them of their affliction without any questions. They can join their families, the religious community will have a place for them – now that they are clean – and life will be normal. They did everything he asked and nothing else. 

It can come to you as a question in the quiet. How did I get here? Have I forgotten anything? The poet Jane Kenyon wrote a poem called “Otherwise” recounting the ordinary events of the day. 

I got out of bed 
on two strong legs.
It might have been 
otherwise. I ate 
cereal, sweet 
milk, ripe, flawless 
peach. It might 
have been otherwise. 
I slept in a bed 
in a room with paintings 
on the walls, and 
planned another day 
just like this day. 
But one day, I know, 
it will be otherwise.

Kenyon imagines her day as a series of non-necessary events — a cascade of gift after gift. Even in and through our struggles, there are treasures to be found. 

____________________

We know the nine well.  What about the one who returned? What happened to him?  With his traveling companions he too looked at his fresh clean skin. He heard Jesus’ commandment to go to the priest. He knew exactly what he was supposed to do. But something other than obedience rose up in him like one a Yellowstone geyser. Let’s call it gratitude – because that’s what it is, isn’t it? The desire to say Thank You came to him with such unbridled joy that he risked everything to express it, including his own healing. Luke says – he turned back praising God with a loud voice! Can you hear him singing? Can you see him running? Can you see him falling at Jesus’ feet overwhelmed with gratitude?  It might have been otherwise. 

Here is the astonishing thing: it was his gratitude that led to his disobedience that led to his well-being. Salvation – well-being - is that remarkable thing that occurs when we RISK following our desire to give thanks to God for our very lives. This man allowed nothing to delay his gratitude – not even his religious obligation. This is radical gratitude. 

The nine were religiously obedient - they did as Jesus said and the law required -  and missed the gratitude.  It might have been otherwise. 

Jesus has a name for the one man’s gratitude- faith - and says it leads to wholeness of life. Isn’t this is our longing: to find in this life wholeness, well-being, salvation? St. Augustine prayed: Our hearts are restless, Lord, until we find our rest in you.

There is one more thing to notice about the one who turned back. He’s a double outsider; a leper and a despised Samaritan. An outsider among outsiders is the only one who turns back. Again, Jesus asks no questions. He gazes upon the man’s wretched condition and heals him. Once more, Jesus reminds us: it is the least likely one - the outcast, the vulnerable, the suspect, the marginal - who displays for the rest of us faith and gratitude that leads to health and wholeness. Pay attention to him. 

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  

Good Shepherd Lutheran Church
10.12.25