Monday, October 6, 2025

October 5, 2025 Luke 17:11-19

What is joy? It’s one of those easy questions to ask but a somewhat hard thing to define. If I take an old school approach I turn to Webster’s dictionary. There I find, “the emotion of great delight or happiness caused by something good or satisfying; keen pleasure.” Okay. That sounds good. But how do I attain it? I think we all want to feel joy but it’s not something you can just get with a formula and calculations. While there are things you can do increase your chances of feeling joy, often it just happens unexpectedly. You can’t guarantee that it will happen. I think we’ve all felt joy doing something or being some place. Then sometime later we try to recreate it but it doesn’t work. Or perhaps it does work but with declining returns. Joy is something we want but can’t really get our hands on; and certainly can’t control.

I think that helps to prepare us to engage what is going on in our gospel reading for today. In his typical style of withholding essential information until just the moment when he decides to reveal it, Luke holds off telling us the ethnicity of the one leper who returned to give thanks to Jesus. We’re well into the story before we learn that the only character who is praised was a foreigner. That is jarring. But we’re okay with that because that’s the way good storytellers often do things. What we’re not okay with, but what Luke seems to have done, is to yank the logic of the story out from under us as well.

You’ll remember that for these last several chapters Jesus has been traveling to Jerusalem with a (possibly large) group of followers. He’s talking and teaching along the way. He also eats meals in various places. He gets into some controversies with members of the Pharisee sect. As the gospel reading for today begins, he’s back on the road. We’re told that he’s traveling between Samaria and Galilee. So far so good.

Jesus has entered a village and is approached by ten lepers. Leprosy could refer to any number of skin conditions. Some of them were contagious and deadly. Everyone diagnosed with leprosy was separated from the healthy population. People with leprosy would often band together into groups apart from the rest of society. Since their condition may be contagious they knew they could not come into close proximity with others. We understand perfectly then when we’re told the ten lepers cry out, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.” They’re keeping their distance. Here, though, Luke is leading us down a false path. That Jewish people would recognize Jesus and call him master is something we’d expect. So our minds automatically, yet incorrectly, make the assumption that all ten are Jewish.

Jesus tells them to go and show themselves to the priests. Luke continues to allow our assumption to go unchallenged. Yet he is pulling us into a trap. Both Jews and Samaritans had priests. In both cases priests were the ones who were to make examinations of people with leprosy. Only a priest could declare a person cured. The only difference between Jews and Samaritans in this regard is that Jewish people would go to Jerusalem to be examined by a priest, and Samaritan people would go to Samaria to be examined by one of their own priests.

Again, Luke is allowing the story to develop before us with our incorrect assumptions intact. The story continues as we’re told that as the lepers went on their way they were cured. That was a great thing to happen to them! Then we’re told that only one of them returns. That one, despite not being examined by a priest, knows that he is no longer contagious. So this time he comes right up to Jesus, falls at his feet, and gives thanks with a loud voice.

But there is where Luke pulls his trick of giving us the detail that the man was a Samaritan. We realize that we made a reasonable, but incorrect, assumption. We might be a little annoyed at being tricked like this, but that’s just what Luke does. Then, almost at the same moment we realize we’ve made a mistake, Luke also yanks the logic out of the story. Jesus says, “Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?”

At the same moment that we’re surprised that a foreigner, who shares neither religion nor nationality with Jesus, is the only one who is being thankful, we’re also a little puzzled with Jesus. Didn’t he just tell them all to go and show themselves to the priests. As the story is told, the Samaritan realizes his cure along the way. So presumably the rest are still on their way. They are directly obeying Jesus’ command. They are following orders. Yet now Jesus seems upset that they haven’t disobeyed him and returned with gratitude. Plus, if they did have a contagious disease, is it not smart to get an expert opinion before going back into contact with people?

It is the Samaritan who is, in a sense, being disobedient to Jesus. It is the Samaritan who is putting people’s health at risk. Yet Jesus commends him for it! What is going on here?

When I encounter things in the Bible that don’t make sense I turn to the experts. Over the years I have amassed an arsenal of commentaries written by experts who pour over the Bible’s stories for their whole lives. They almost always have insights I can use to make sense of what is going on. True, sometimes they are stumped. Some things they cannot decipher no matter how hard they try. But even so, they can usually make some educated guesses. So how do they handle this breakdown of logic in this story?

Let’s say – not very well. Many just ignore it. Friedrick Schleiermacher, a famous highly influential German theologian from centuries ago, concludes that the story is “negligently told.” (Interpreter’s Bible Commentary, Volume 8, Pg. 297)

That’s not much help! No matter how much logic and brain power you apply to this text it leaves you baffled. But George Arthur Buttrick has what seems to me to be the right idea. He suggests that the story is not negligently told at all. Instead, it is expertly told, just as all of Luke’s gospel is. And Luke has deliberately shaped the story so as to trip us up in our assumptions of the nationality of the lepers, and then almost immediately afterwards, logic drops out from under us as well. Why? Because Luke wants us to realize something that logic cannot analyze.

I started off asking what is joy? Now I ask, what is gratitude? You can teach a child to say thank you. A child may obey you in it and learn to express gratitude. But is that really gratitude or is it just social conditioning? I’m sure we’ve all said thank you after receiving a gift, when our real thoughts are that we can’t wait to throw away or donate the item as quickly as possible!

But what is real gratitude? What is that deep feeling of thankfulness, and even joy, at receiving something? It is always something unexpected, and something that makes us feel like we are forever in debt to the person who gave it. We feel completely undeserving of it.

Perhaps all of the lepers who were cleansed felt thankfulness and some gratitude to Jesus. But it is only the Samaritan who is so overwhelmed with gratitude that he disobeys Jesus’ words and comes back, disregarding boundaries of safety, and throws himself at Jesus’ feet.

I don’t believe this story is intended to be a racist story. I don’t believe Luke is criticizing Jews and uplifting Samaritans as if they were somehow better. But Luke is making use of the general Jewish disdain for Samaritans. He is showing that God’s grace can appear in outsiders and in unexpected places. God’s grace is not the property and privilege of a select group. God’s grace is not logical. It is not controllable. It is not predictable. It is God’s sovereignty.

Try not to be too jealous when it appears that God’s grace is coming to others who seem less worthy than you think you are. Do not become distressed that you cannot use logic to manufacture joy or gratitude within yourself. Luke has told us a story that breaks the rules of proper storytelling to show us that God is not bound by the rules.

And ultimately, whether we ever feel like we’re receiving God’s grace or not, here is the ultimate truth. Death is the end of us. That is fact. That is logic. That is the rules. But it is God’s promise of irrational, illogical, impossible, and overwhelming grace, that says that death is not the end. Eternal life is grace.

That is our hope, our dream, our striving, and our joy. It is God’s promised joy for us all.

Wednesday, October 1, 2025

September 28, 2025 Luke 17:1-10

The verses that we read in our gospel reading may have felt disorganized and perhaps angry. Jesus seems to be jumping from topic to topic. He’s talking about hanging millstones around necks, being slaves who aren’t appreciated, and having no faith to speak of. Who would want to be a follower of someone like this?

The best way I’ve heard to understand this is to realize that it comes after a long series of teachings. Jesus is pulling together several themes he has touched on, and he is taking them one step further. From about halfway through chapter 11 of Luke’s gospel on to about where we are now in chapter 17 it can be helpful to imagine yourself as someone sitting in a theater watching a musical or play. Picture Jesus standing center stage. There’s a spotlight on him the whole time. Off to one side of Jesus is a big group of people who Luke would call Jesus’ disciples. But don’t picture them as the 12 apostles. This is a broader group of people who generally poor. They’re day laborers, subsistence farmers, fishermen, farm hands, etc. Off to the other side of Jesus is a big group of people who are his opponents. Luke usually just calls them “Pharisees” but it’s best to understand that as a catch-all term for people who are educated and well-to-do. The systems of society and the economy work for them. Because of that they seem to think they have God’s blessings on their lives. They subtly perceive themselves to somehow be better than those on the other side of Jesus.

As we see these chapters unfold on the stage in front of us it is as if sometimes a spotlight turns on to the disciples and the Pharisees are in semi-darkness. Jesus addresses his words to his followers but the Pharisees are overhearing him. Then the spotlight on the disciples turns off and one turns on over the Pharisees. Jesus now talks to them, but Jesus’ followers are still there on stage overhearing his words.

Back and forth it goes, chapter after chapter. Jesus’ words are addressed to different groups but no group ever leaves the stage. This means that we’re to understand that both groups hear everything Jesus says.

That part of the play is now wrapping up in chapter 17. At this point there’s a spotlight on the disciples. The teaching is directed towards them. The things Jesus is saying are not a scattered bunch of unrelated teachings, but a summary of the last few chapters’ worth of materials.

Jesus says, “Occasions for stumbling are bound to come, but woe to anyone by whom they come! It would be better for you if a millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea than for you to cause one of these little ones to stumble.” Who are the little ones? Last week we read the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus. Lazarus was one of the little ones. So too are the poor, crippled, blind, and the lame. While Jesus has been largely criticizing the Pharisees, when he says, “Occasions for stumbling are bound to come…” he is reminding his followers that they are not immune from the sense of superiority the Pharisees have.

Jesus knows full well our human tendencies. We seem to always be establishing a pecking order with some people on the top and others beneath them. The Pharisees felt smug over the poor. Jesus criticized them for that. And, as Jesus teaches about God reversing the fortunes of the rich and the poor, now the poor could also fall into a trap of feeling morally superior because of their poverty. Jesus doesn’t want that to happen either.

Jesus is preaching God’s new economy of life, which brings forth both a call to repentance and a promise of compassion. In the new order none claim superiority or inferiority. All live with the call to repentance and the promise of divine compassion.

Jesus’ next words to his disciples are that they must now forgive others endlessly. If their lives are truly oriented around repentance and God’s promise of compassion for them, forgiveness is now no longer a scorecard of wrongs. You don’t get to tally how many times a person fails and asks for forgiveness. Then at some point they’ve reached the limit and you cut them off. The simple act of tallying the times you forgive someone runs counter to the nature of true forgiveness. True forgiveness does not keep track.

This is a teaching that has been exploited many times. I once supervised an intern pastor who I felt was exploitative and abusive. He would say to people, “You’re a Christian. You have to forgive me over and over.” That’s abusive and exploitative. You can’t leverage forgiveness out of other people. Jesus did not intend victims of abuse to hear this and feel like they are trapped in cycles of destruction. This teaching is meant to convey that since we are all sinners who inevitably will stumble frequently, that since God is richly forgiving we should be too.

(As an aside, that intern pastor I mentioned was removed from the program.)

Even so, this is a hard teaching. God being richly forgiving and therefore we are to be richly forgiving is a very difficult thing to live out! The apostles reply, “Increase our faith!”

Notice the shift in language that just happened there. Luke is pretty precise in the way he uses words. When he says, “disciples” he generally means the group of people who are following Jesus. There could be any number of them, men and women. But when he says “apostles” he means the 12 closest followers of Jesus. So now it is as if the spotlight on stage has gone off of the general group of Jesus’ disciples and a very focused light is on just the 12. They say, “Increase our faith!” Indeed, this demand for forgiveness is going to take a lot of faith to live out.

In response we expect Jesus to say something nice to them. The apostles have recognized a weakness within themselves. They are wisely turning to their Lord and asking for what they need to deal with that weakness. Jesus should commend them for their priorities and insightfulness. But…

Jesus replies, “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.”

Remember, the spotlight has narrowed to just Jesus and the 12 apostles. If anyone in the story should have faith it would be these 12 followers. Yet Jesus basically says that even they, his closest 12, are entirely lacking in what it takes. That’s really tough thing for Jesus to say!

What the apostles have missed, and what is so very easy for us to miss too, is that faith is not a commodity to be had; or a commodity to be increased or decreased. Faith is not a possession. It is, perhaps, better described as a disposition toward life.

When we build our lives around the ways of the world our attitude towards money, possessions, and status, will be fundamentally unfaithful. Our life priorities will be just plain wrong. When we build our lives around the inbreaking kingdom of God that Jesus proclaims, we are automatically faithful in all that we have. Such an attitude would not make a request like, “Increase our faith.” It would simply live into it.

But this is very hard. Luke has done a good job of showing that even the closest 12 followers of Jesus didn’t get it. We shouldn’t be too hard on ourselves if we struggle with it. The point is not so much to get it right as it is to have the humility to know that you never will really get it totally right. Remember what Jesus said at the beginning of this section. “Occasions for stumbling are sure to come…” That is Jesus’ compassion.

The final thing Jesus says in this section is also troublesome to us. He says, “Who among you would say to your slave who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, ‘Come here at once and take your place at the table.’ Would you not rather say to him, ‘Prepare supper for me, put on your apron and serve me while I eat and drink; later you may eat and drink.’? Do you thank the slave for doing what was commanded? So you also, when you have done all that you were ordered to do, say, ‘We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!’”

That one may sting. Are we really to live our lives devoted to God and at the end of it all think of ourselves, “We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!” Are we worthless before God? Does God not appreciate how hard being a follower of Jesus usually is?

Jesus uses this image because it wraps up all that he has been teaching. It is an effective one. But we trip over it because our understanding of appreciation and value is different than theirs.

Jesus is using a common image. People knew well the dynamics of a master/slave relationship. And remember, slavery in those days was fundamentally different than the systemic permanent racial slavery of the United States. Slavery in those days was rarely life-long. The Old Testament has many rules about the treatment of slaves and the duration of their enslavement. So within their understanding, a slave who has done all that he or she has been ordered to do has simply fulfilled their master’s wishes. The slave is owed nothing more. When Jesus says that we are to see ourselves as “worthless slaves” he does not mean that we are useless. He means that our faithfulness to God does then therefore put God under obligation to do us any favors. Said differently, there is no “worth” that we can give to God that would put God in debt to us. We cannot pray, “God, I did this for you. Now you must do for me what I want.”

It all sums up like this. In these last chapters we may have found ourselves scowling at the Pharisees for their hypocrisy and sense of superiority. And we may have smiled upon the poorer disciples for their humility and authenticity. But by all of these words Jesus points out that: rich or poor, powerful or weak, educated or ignorant, kind or cruel, all people have the same base instincts at work in them. All are capable of twisting the ways of the world to their benefit. All are capable of twisting the promises of God to their benefit as well. Even as we strive to do our best to be faithful people living out God’s promises in our lives, we know that we will do so imperfectly at best. Yet we strive anyway, and we can count on God being with us always in our striving.