Thanks!

Luke 17:11-19

I feel a bit like a writer for an episode of "Sesame Street" as I consider this story from Luke. We so easily take for granted the necessity of gratitude, forgetting to issue thanks for the daily deluge of providence, not only from God, the source of all things, but also those deeds and words of kindness other people constantly meet us with. This story reminds us of the power of thanksgiving, and reminds us of the absolute necessity of giving thanks where thanks is due.

Ten lepers met Christ in their existential state of desperation, doomed to live in exile in full view of the rest of the world. They were also doomed to waste away until death came as a friend to end their suffering. No one could do anything for them. They were  a danger to anyone they met. That is the definition of hell on earth. But Christ heals them. With next to no effort at all, Christ eradicates all that doomed them.

And one returned to say thank you.

One.

As one who daily intones that God is good and grace abounds, I cannot simply denounce the other nine as hopelessly self-centered or apathetic. No, as we learn of the experience of the lepers, we can actually understand why the other nine raced off to be declared clean by the priests--their joy at release overwhelmed all else. All that mattered was being well. In college, I worked at a summer camp in a state park. One day one of our children got lost. One class went on a nature walk and a little boy got fascinated by a box turtle beside the trail, stopping while the group moved on, taking a left at a fork. When the boy realized everyone was gone, he leapt up and went right, getting lost in the woods. When the class got back, the ranger leading them noted one was missing. he went back into the woods. After an hour or so of beating the bushes, he emerged with the fellow. The boy raced to his counselor and friends, overjoyed at being found. They all went back to the camp and on with the day. The ranger just stood there smiling. He may well still be standing there, thirty years later, waiting for someone--anyone--to say thank you. The joy of the camper, his friends, and his counselor trumped all else. He was found!

But the one who stopped to give thanks to the man who made him well gained something no one else got--he met God. The power of gratitude brought him into the presence of the Lord. His healing, then, gained a level of completion none of the others experienced.

A nearly constant worry we hear or voice is over the presence of God. Especially as we see and hear of the latest atrocity in the human realm, we wonder where God might be. We feel at times that our prayers rise into a void. No one listens, no one answers. We worry that God has left us.

Giving thanks has the power to silence all those fretful worries.

As I wrote this sermon, I looked out over a patch of woods. It was a sunny morning and the light played in the leaves like a natural kaleidoscope. The breeze turned and shifted the leaves to catch the sunlight and move the shadows around in an ever-shifting pattern. Giving thanks to God the creator of light and shadow, trees and sun, breezes and stillness reminded me that God was there.

Driving down the road, we pass signs of the creator and his providence all along the way. There is the grocery store, a treasure trove of the daily bread for which we pray. The passing cars reveal the wondrously broad hand with which God made us, the sheer joy in variety and variegation of being human. Giving thanks to God as the source of all we see reminds us that God is right there.

Sharing a cup of coffee with our beloved brings the reality of our love, connection, and shared experience to the fore. Giving thanks to God who is the author of all love reminds us that God is present in our love, offering the grace to overcome the mishaps and misunderstandings that are inevitable. God twined us together, so God twines himself to us through Christ. Pausing to thank God reminds us of the presence of God in all of our relationships.

But there is still another level of thanksgiving in Luke's story--the leper thanks a rabbi who made him well--his pause to give thanks deepens the bond between them and allows them to walk together.

Realize and recognize the daily miracles of grace that come through other people. Someone needed to thank that ranger for finding the lost camper. Everyone would have appreciated everyone else even more. Now, weird as it may seem, thank the farmer that grew the coffee that woke you up. Thank the person who made your clothes. Closer to home, thank the people in that house who put up with you every day. When the kids do what they are supposed to, thank them. When they do the unexpected nice thing, thank them. When your beloved remembers something--anything--thank them. When they listen, thank them. When they offer counsel, thank them. Go through the day, looking for people to thank. I know it may well sound stupid, corny, or trite--but in every case, no matter how banal, a thank you can forge a deeper connection, a deeper understanding, and a deeper sense of mutuality.

Now from the mundane to the profound--Luke has subtly given us a road map for fulfilling Christ's call to be obedient to the God who made us. Recall that Jesus made obedience simple-two commandments (actually three if you see the last one as a compound commandment)--love God with your whole being; and love your neighbor as you love yourself. Three loves--God, neighbor, self--all of which can be met in the art of thanksgiving. When we pause to see the providence of God all around us all the time and offer thanks, we love God. When we pause to give thanks for the mercy shown by other human beings, we love our neighbors. As we give thanks for more and more, finding more and more evidence of the omnipresence of love, we just might find it a whole lot easier to love ourselves.

That's a lot to be thankful for, thanks be to God.