The disease identified as leprosy in the Bible was a terrible affliction. In addition to whatever physical suffering it caused directly, the indirect effects of the need to control the spread of this contagious disease amongst the population were considerable. The book of Leviticus prescribes that lepers must isolate themselves from their community, who were not allowed to worship nor socialize with them. They were even required to warn others loudly not to come near them. Only examination by a priest to verify that they no longer had the disease could ritually remove the lepers’ uncleanness and allow them to reintegrate with their community.
In their search for human companionship, the ten lepers who encountered Jesus had formed a strange surrogate community, incorporating both Jew and Samaritan, for whom it would have been unthinkable otherwise to associate together. Disagreements about how and where to worship God usually kept the two societies apart, each holding the other in contempt, but the common affliction of these sufferers had overcome such distinctions.
The group of ten respectfully keeps its distance from Jesus as he approaches on his way to Jerusalem. They shout out, both to warn Jesus and to beg for his mercy, evidently having heard somehow of his power to heal. I suppose most people, having identified the group as something to be avoided, would have looked away and hurried past, perhaps with some embarrassment. Jesus stops, looks at the lepers, and sees them in their miserable condition. To my surprise, all he then does is send them off to the priest, presumably to be examined for leprosy; to their astonishment, they experience healing in their bodies as they go.
Nine of the ten dutifully continue on their way as instructed by Jesus, to be certified clean by the nearest priest. The remaining one seems to understand that something more than physical healing has happened, and can’t contain his delight, shouting praise to God at the top of his voice as he rushes back to Jesus. Luke tells us this one returns because he knows he has been found, as Mary found favour with God and her soul proclaimed the greatness of the Lord. The Samaritan, even though a foreigner to his Jewish healer, has been found through him, as a lost sheep is found, as a lost coin is found, as a lost son is found, who was dead and has returned to life.
The Samaritan’s thanksgiving is no mere expression of gratitude, but a whole-hearted Eucharistic celebration at the discovery of the life-giving presence of God in Jesus Christ. The Samaritan has been saved and made well, beyond physical healing and ritual cleanliness. I think Jesus’ question about the other nine expresses a sadness that they have somehow not understood what the Samaritan knows, and missed out on the fullness of the Samaritan’s experience of deeper healing and greater joy in the presence of Jesus.
All ten of the lepers who met Jesus readily obeyed his instruction to go towards the priests, and so found their healing on the way. By contrast, the valiant Aramean military commander Naaman struggled to do as instructed by the prophet Elisha. He seems to have had preconceived notions about how his treatment should be effected, and the prophet didn’t comply with these. Naaman’s expectations of respect for his dignity were offended, and he turned away from his healing in protest.
Naaman wouldn’t be the first nor last person to deprive himself of what was in his own best interests through clinging stubbornly to his prideful self-importance. However, there are quite surprising aspects to his story.
A young Hebrew girl had showed remarkable compassion for her foreign captor. As remarkably, Naaman was somehow able to listen to her and take her advice seriously, and so start his journey toward healing.
Naaman’s servants are both caring and courageous enough to intervene and tactfully point out his self-defeating foolishness. When he follows their advice, he experiences the healing he receives as the gracious gift of God, and returns humbly and thankfully to acknowledge that to the prophet.
The Gospel stories of miracles of healing can be quite problematic for us, if we or those we care about continue to struggle without the physical healing we ask for. I think at least as challenging, though, can be feeling as if we are lost in our struggles, as if no one sees or knows or cares about our difficulties enough to come alongside and support us.
As we celebrate this Eucharist together, let us give thanks that we have been found, that we are seen and known and cared for by God in the spiritual presence of Jesus Christ, and let us pray that we might learn to see and care about those around us as God does, by God’s mercy and grace.