The Motivation for Our Actions (Luke 17:11-19)

“Were there not ten cleansed? But the nine – where are they?”(Luke 17:17)

It had to bother him. It just had to! It had to hurt his feelings. Didn't it? He healed ten. Ten! Ten lepers! A group of ten that no one, not a single sole, would care if they lived or died. They’d been thrown away like trash on a heap. “Unclean”, they were called. Not allowed to be close to those who were “clean”. He healed them all. And rather than pound his own chest and say, “Look at me!”, he bid them go and show the priests that they were clean, following the Law and the Traditions.

They had cried out to him for mercy. Raising their voices, they called out; “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!” And he did as they asked. The Master of Grace gave them their lives again, gave them community once again. When someone, anyone, asks Jesus for mercy, he grants the request. Never misses an opportunity! But that’s grace. And for Jesus, it’s all about grace.

When you and I read this story found in Luke 17, we get angry. Fist clinching, jaw jutting angry! Let’s admit that up front. This was a huge ask; “mercy”, “cleansing”, new life. And nine of ten never said “thanks Jesus”. Are you kidding me!!

You and I get frustrated when we hold the door for someone, and they don’t even bother to acknowledge it. No thank you. No smile and a nod. You and I get ticked when we graciously allow the car to cut in front of us and don’t see a thankful “wave of the hand” in grateful response. “How rude!” You and I get just a little perturbed when we send a gift to the new couple or for the new baby and don’t receive the thank you note as quickly as we would expect. It’s aggravating! That’s what we think; what we mumble to ourselves.

Not Jesus. He doesn’t express anger. No agitation. Just a question. “Were there not ten cleansed? But the nine – where are they?”

I’m certain that Jesus was grateful for the one who returned to give thanks and praise. He says to that one, “Stand up and go, your faith has made you well”.

But immediately before Jesus encounters the ten lepers, he has been teaching his disciples. He speaks metaphorically about a slave who should not expect thanks for doing that which he was commanded to do. Jesus tells his friends, “So you too, when you do all the things which are commanded you, say, ‘We are unworthy slaves; we have done only that which we ought to have done.” (Luke 17:9-10)

I’m thinking that Jesus feels no anger or agitation with the nine who did not return to say thanks – he feels compassion. Should they have returned to say thanks? You bet! In fact, it’s the least that they could have and should have done! But Jesus did not “take back the healing” because nine did not say “thanks”.

It’s all about grace when we say a heartfelt “thanks”. But Jesus didn’t heal them in order to receive their “thank yous”. He healed them because that is what he was sent to do by his Heavenly Father. Isaiah foretold it and Jesus himself read it to those gathered in the synagogue that day in Nazareth, his own hometown. “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because He anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives, and recovery of sight to the blind, to set free those who are oppressed, to proclaim the favorable year of the Lord.”(Luke 4:18-19)

In his healing of these ten, Jesus was doing what he had been commanded by the Father to do. There was no judgment of the nine who deserted Jesus’ presence once healed. They were healed. And my guess is that once they realized the freedom they had been given, they told everyone who would listen about this man from Galilee, who on his way through Samaria, took away their leprosy and gave them their lives. That’s my guess.

Giving thanks, saying thanks, is all a part of grace. It’s the grace filled thing to do. Gratitude is a part of the Christian DNA. As Jesus followers, we should be grateful; grateful for the freedom we have been given in Christ Jesus; gratitude for his sacrifice for us, the undeserving, the “unclean”. But I wonder, how often do we turn our eyes to him and say “thanks”? Better yet, I wonder how often we say thanks to him by living and expressing the freedom he has given us?

I believe that doing for others what I would like done for me and that loving my neighbor as I, myself, have been loved by God is what I have been commanded to do. In my “followship” of Jesus, it is what he commands me to do; “to love others as He has loved me” (John 13:34). Maybe you and I can take a page out of the “grace book” of Jesus. While it is a thing of grace when someone says “thanks”, to receive that thanks should not be the motivation for my action. It wasn’t for Jesus. Grace and mercy were his motivation. It should be mine. Doing for others without the condition of receiving a “thank-you” in return is all about grace. And in loving others as I, myself, have been loved, I pray that the grace of Christ Jesus that is in me will ALWAYS remind me to make a special effort to express gratitude for any kindness shown by another.

It’s All About Grace!

“Come and See Him Who Sees Me” (John 4:1-42)

“Come, see a man who told me all that I ever did. Can this be the Christ?” (John 4:29)

I’m sure that she was curious when she saw him. Perhaps even a little frightened. She was by herself. One like her, mocked and scorned by the community around her always felt alone. She could only come to this well at mid-day when there would be no one else around. She made sure of that. The stares, smirks, and ugly whispers of the other women were so painful. She had heard the talk.

“Can you believe what she’s doing,” they whispered. “She’s living with ‘that man’ and they aren’t even married!”

“Well, I heard that she’s been married FIVE times” one exclaimed to the others who bent near to hear the gossip.

“Sinful!” “Sinful!” “Shame on her!” That was their verdict. No trial. No defense witnesses. Just guilty! Their words echoed in her ears as she approached the well that day. The accusations and cruel gossip ricocheted off the inner walls of her head. That’s how gossip works. And if you’re on the wrong end of it, it can suck the life right out of you. And life, real life, was what she wanted. Would she ever find it?

What was he doing there? She could tell by his skin tone. He’s not one of us. He’s a Jew. For centuries “her people” and “his people” were at odds. Mistakes made centuries ago were still being judged. Animosity filled the air when Jews came through Samaria. There was a “deep in the gut” hatred. Name calling. Nasty stuff! And, as if she didn’t have enough to deal with! Now, this man. A Jew! She expected more derision. Under her breath she’d sigh. “Dear Jehovah, will it ever stop?”

But he surprised her. He asked her for a drink of water from her well, the well dug by the patriarch, Jacob. I don’t think that Jesus was really that thirsty for water. What he thirsted for, longed for, was a conversation. He thirsted, longed for just the chance to give life to one who was lifeless. What was it that he would say to his disciples? “I have food to eat that you do not know about. My food is to do the will of him who sent me to accomplish his work”.

That’s what the man of grace does. He gives life to the lifeless, joy to the joyless, and hope to the hopeless. He provides healing to the gaping wounds that have remained open for generations. He gives life to the broken-hearted. And she, she needed to know him! And so, he spoke.

“If you only knew the gift God has for you and who you are speaking to, you would ask me, and I would give you living water. Folks that drink from your well will always come back thirsty again. But the water from my well satisfies eternal thirst. You won’t be thirsty again.”

And to the one who was lifeless, joyless, and hopeless his words were heaven sent. “Please, sir,” she said, “give me this water!

“Go,” he said. “Go and get your husband and bring him back with you.”

Jesus knows her story. The man from heaven, God incarnate, sees everyone fully; you, me, the Samaritan woman. He knows our stories; all of them, from page one to page now. Jesus knows that this woman been married five times and now lives with one who is not her husband. But he’s not concerned with yesterday’s story line. To the one who will come to him, to drink from his well-spring of grace, the past is just that – the past. Jesus is in the full restoration business. He wants her life fully restored. He wants her husband’s life fully restored. He wants their life together fully restored. He wants your life fully restored. And he wants my life fully restored. You and I can have this living water, purified by the savior’s grace. The grace that fully restores. With Jesus, it’s all about grace!

“I can now see that you are a prophet,” she confesses. “But you and I worship differently. One day, when Messiah comes, he will speak truth and reveal all things.”

“Woman, I who speak to you am he.”

And in his revelation her jaw drops. The jug she’s carrying drops. Her past record drops; forgotten, forgiven. And she must tell them, the whole village. The village that shunned her, mocked her, dismissed her, considered her trash for the heap. In her new voice she would share him. In her joy and her exuberance, she would share Jesus with them.

“Come, see a man who told me all that I ever did. Can this be the Christ?”

Many Samaritans in that village of Sychar came to believe simply because of what she told them. That was good enough. “The man of grace cares about me. I can have life, in full, by drinking from his fountain. You can too!” Many others went to the well to see this Messiah for themselves. To take his offer. They wanted this life-giving water he offered for free. They asked him to stay with them, in their town, if for just a few days. He did. Unheard of! A Jew staying with Samaritans! But you’d be surprised what barriers can come down when grace is freely extended. You’d be surprised how life can be restored. Unmerited and undeserved grace. With Jesus it’s free for the asking. With Jesus, it’s all about grace!

A Grace That Reaches Out (Matt. 8:1-4)

“Lord, if you will, you can make me clean.” (Matt. 8:1-4, v. 2)

Many would say that it was his greatest sermon. I know I would. Everything that he’d taught that day, he would begin to live out; model. Jesus was a doer. I think the greatest sermons are the ones where truth is spoken and then lived out. Acted on. Modeled. He spoke of hope and promise. “Blessed are they”, he said. “Blessed are the poor in spirit. The Kingdom of heaven belongs to such as them.” “Blessed are those who are pure in heart. The pure in heart shall see God.” “The merciful will receive mercy in return.” “Peacemakers shall be called sons of God,” he said. “Those who grieve will again find joy.” He talked about the dangers of anger and adultery and retaliation. Such things destroy relationships. Those who heard him speak heard the challenge to love their enemies and pray for those who wish you harm and speak out against you. “If you love those who love you, or do good only to those who do good to you, what benefit does that bring? Even the pagans do that.” What the crowd heard that day they had not heard before.

And so, they followed. Great crowds. Matthew’s gospel tells us that by any estimate they were large in number. They wanted to hear more and see more from this one “who was teaching them as one who had authority, and not as their scribes.” (Matt. 7:29, ESV)

It was on the mountain that he had spoken. Now he would come down to the plain. He would now begin his journey; a journey that would end on another mountain. God’s holy mountain, Zion. The cross on Calgary’s hill awaited him. He knew that. The crowds didn’t. Those who would closely follow would be unaware. He chose, for now, to keep it that way.

Shocking! You’d have to say it was. When “the intruder” suddenly appeared. Shocking! Unthinkable! Why, the very idea! The one they called not by name, but by circumstance. “Leper!” “Unclean one!” He had broken out.

The Law forbid this. It was well documented. No guesswork on what was required. The Law said that the priest was to have examined the diseased area on the skin. He would make the call. “Clean” or “Unclean”. The unclean were to wear torn clothes. Their hair was to “hang loose”. Their upper lip was to be covered. They were to shout to those passersby; “Unclean, Unclean!” They were to live alone, shunned. Their dwelling outside the camp. (Leviticus 13, paraphrased)

This one, whom the priest had determined to be “unclean” boldly broke through. He had been forced into separation by every form and measure. By his race. By his religion. By his community. An outcast! Ugly! Detestable! Sinner! Condemned! That’s what the Law said. So, that’s what the people in the community said. They followed the Law of Moses. And when this one approached, the one with no name, the one of unfortunate circumstance, the great crowds gasped. “Back away,” they cried! “Don’t touch him”, they shouted! They couldn’t take the risk. That’s how they saw it.

But Jesus, the man of grace, saw it differently. Compassionate eyes see from the heart. When all others saw this one through eyes of shame and detestation, Jesus saw one who had courage. He saw one who had hope. He saw one who had faith. He saw one who sought to break the bonds that bound him. Jesus saw one who was willing, at all costs, to take him at his word. This one, the one the world called “unclean”, now knelt before the King of Heaven. He had to take the chance! A chance to be healed. A chance for restoration and renewal. New life. Shackled and chained no more.

“Lord, if you will, you can make me clean.” With his words he spoke these truths. "Lord, only you can heal me.” “Only you can restore my life”. So, that was his request. Perhaps it’ should be yours. Perhaps it should be mine.

For like the leper, you and I can find ourselves confined, roped off, excluded, alone, and forgotten. The leper’s wounds were on the surface of the skin. Yours and mine may be deeper, below the surface, not visible on the outside. Sometimes the bindings that constrict us are from our past. Hurts and pains of yesterday are the chains that enslave us, open sores that continue to ooze and remind us that we are not whole yet. You and I may be bound by deep regret. Something we did. Something we didn’t do. We find ourselves marooned on the “Island of REGRET”. The languages we speak there are “I wish Ida” and “If only Ida”, or “They shoulda”. We’re lost in the wilderness of “what might have been”.

Perhaps our chains are fashioned out of our grief. Our grief is too deep. Too painful. The chains seem to be made of steel. When we’ve lost one that we’ve loved so deeply, we struggle with a pathway forward. How do we break loose?

Or, maybe it’s anger that imprisons us. Perhaps it’s guilt. Whatever it is, we need him to break the chains. We can’t do it ourselves. Just as did the leper, we can take the risk, go boldly, and stake the claim. “Lord, if you will, you can make me clean.”

And he who heals with grace unimaginable does the unthinkable! He stretches out his hand and touches the “unclean” one. And with a soft voice Jesus says, “I will; be clean”. Astonishing!

It didn’t take seven days to be clean. No forced confinement for weeks or months or years. No waiting for the priest to declare. “Immediately his leprosy was healed.” “Go now and present yourself”, Jesus says. (Matt. 8:3, ESV)

When Jesus heals, he heals immediately. With grace that is sufficient and immediate. Whatever may be the “dis-ease” that binds us, Jesus cleanses. He’s readily available. Don't let the crowd stop you. Just come boldly, kneel in contrition, and ask him. Astonishing!

It’s All About Grace!