28th Sunday

28th Sunday Ordinary
October 10, 2004

"I will no longer offer holocaust or sacrifice to any other god except to the LORD." (2 Kings 5:14-17) "Ten were cleansed, were they not? Where are the other nine? Has none but this foreigner returned to give thanks to God?" (Luke 17: 11-19).
Nahman the Syrian, suffering from leprosy, a fatal incurable disease, follows Elisha's instructions, washes in the Jordan River and is miraculously cured. The prophet refuses an offer of payment in thanks, but does allow Nahman to take several wheelbarrows of soil from the holy land back to his native country where he says he will continue to worship Elisha's powerful God. In a strikingly similar way, Jesus sends ten people with leprosy to show themselves to the priests where they would expect to be declared unclean, but instead are cured. Only one, a Samaritan foreigner, returned to thank Jesus. Although we might be inclined to focus on the miraculous nature of these events, we might be missing other perhaps even more important lessons.
In both stories the physical cure was obviously intended to bring about a much more permanent healing of soul and spirit. Both returned with profoundly changed attitudes of faith, trust and gratitude in the Most High. The behavior of the "other nine" shows that a physical cure does not guarantee that the inner experience will necessarily follow.
In both stories it is the foreigner and outcast who are respectful, faithful and grateful, in contrast to those steeped in their religious tradition who should have known better. There is a clear contrast between the "lepers" who know they have no right to God's love, and the "clean" who are sure that they do. Neither Nahman nor the grateful leper had any right whatsoever to expect anything from God. It seems that gratitude is often accompanied by this experience of unworthiness: "What did I do to deserve all this love?" This is relatively easy when something dramatically good happens, more difficult when things are not going so well.
Sometimes we behave like the "other nine", taking for granted all that we have been given, as if it were ours by right. Could this be an underlying problem in our religious and political ideologies? We imagine that we are the chosen nation. We have a "right" to all the cheap oil, health care, housing, transportation, food and toys that we can consume, and to exercise the power necessary to maintain it. At other times we can be in awe of, and profoundly grateful for what we have been given. I often have a very comforting experience when I review all the people in my life who love and support me. The list grows as I contemplate it, to include people I have never even met, but who are unseen but nevertheless in my network of support. I recommend this as a spiritual exercise. Like Nahman the Syrian, we can take our sacred ground with us wherever we are and whatever our circumstances.
Loris Buccola