I’m back from my travels. In two weeks, I plan to post about my bicycle ride along the C&O Canal. I’m also back in the pulpit this morning…
Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Churches
October 11, 2026
Luke 17:11-19
At the beginning of worship:
A number of years back, I received an email from a former classmate. Concerned about her son, she asked for prayers. In her plea, she addressed me as a “great man of God.” Taken back, I checked the address. Was it meant for me? She could have mistaken me for someone else. Either that or her memory had already started to decline, as she hadn’t seen seen me in decades. In high school, I could be a troublemaker. But don’t worry, I still prayed for her son.
I bring this up because there is a belief common, even among faithful Christians, that God listens and favors the prayers of the righteous and faithful. Such a belief isn’t fully Biblical. Now, I should also give my classmate some credit. She addressed me as a great man of God as a way to honor me; it’s just that I don’t see myself in that manner. Any greatness any of us have comes from God, not from ourselves.
Before reading the scriptures:
I’m taking a break from the Psalms this week. Instead, I want us to look at the gospel passage from the lectionary, the healing of the ten lepers in Luke’s gospel. This story demonstrates Jesus healing and compassion, but only one of the lepers experiences true transformation—the tenth leper.
Before reading the passage let me say something about leprosy. It was a dreaded skin disease in the ancient world. Jewish law, especially in the book of Leviticus, laid out tough requirements of how do deal with lepers. The intent was to protect society from the spread of the disease. Scholars debate over what kind of leprosy Leviticus addresses. It doesn’t seem as severe as the type of leprosy we know today, which invaded Europe and Western Asia later. Regardless, the disease was horrible and in a time without public health departments and modern medicine, having it was tragic. While society needed protection, victims of leprosy also needed help. In our story today, ten found such help in Jesus Christ.
Read Luke 17:11-19
“Most people are bothered by those passages in Scripture they don’t understand. What have always bothered me are those passages that I do understand.” This quip from Mark Twain contains wisdom. We probably should spend more time worrying about what’s clear in scripture than what’s unclear. If we understand this passage, we should be troubled! Jesus heals ten people and only one thanks him! What happened to the other nine? Are only 10% truly grateful? Did the other nine just “take the money and run,” so to speak? Did they intent to come back to thank Jesus and something distracted them? As they say, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.
And what about us? Where do we fit in the story? Would we stand alone praising God, or would we run with the crowd and forget from where life and true healing comes?
The foundation of our Christian life is based on God’s gift. Presbyterian and Reformed theology teaches that the Christian life—our worship, ethics, stewardship and morality—is based upon our response to the love God has already shown us. We don’t worship and praise God because we want God to do something. That’s the theology of a pagan. We worship and praise God because we have experienced God’s grace. The Samaritan leper would have made an excellent Presbyterian. He knows the proper response. He bows down in awe and reverence to Jesus, God in the flesh.
Now, this doesn’t mean the other guys are necessarily bad. They do what Jesus asks. Together, they herd off to the priests and have themselves declared clean. Perhaps their mothers didn’t make them sit at the table after a birthday party and write thank you notes so they didn’t know better… Of course, I’m merely speculating. Jesus didn’t ask to be thanked. Perhaps the Samaritan’s response came as a pleasant surprise.
Jesus heads to Jerusalem the first verse tells us. Luke devotes a great deal of his gospel to Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem. Jesus begins his journey in the ninth chapter and doesn’t enter the city till the nineteenth chapter! It’s surprising this takes up so much space in Luke’s gospel, for the journey itself would only have been a few days of hard traveling. Yet, a lot happens on this trip.
The location of our story, along the border of Samaria and Galilee, is telling. Most Galilean Jews went out of their way to avoid this area, preferring the indirect route around Samaria. We all know the story of the Good Samaritan. The story disturbed the Jews. They considered Samaritans their no-good cousins.
For pious Jews in the First Century, the one thing worse than a Samaritan (and even a Roman!) would have been a leper. The pious avoided anything which would make them unclean. They assumed their holiness came from from their own efforts as set out in the Torah. Leprosy was a dreaded disease, feared by all in the ancient world, and coming in contact with one would require a ritual of purification.
The book of Leviticus devotes two whole chapters to the disease, instructing the priest on how to diagnose it, as well as how to declare someone free of this horrible infection. Lepers wore torn clothes, let their hair hang loose, and covered their lips as they cried out “unclean” whenever anyone approached. Often they hung bells around their necks. Think of a cow bell warning others of their presence. They couldn’t work. They had no option but to follow the law, remain shunned from society, and depend up the charity of others.
Today, leprosy is no longer the problem it once was. Today, doctors easily treat it with drugs. If I remember correctly, the last leprosy hospital in the United States (in Louisiana) closed in the 1990s. Yet, there are still hospitals around the world, some started by the Presbyterian Church, such as one in Chang Mai, Thailand. With the right drugs, leprosy today can be easily treated.
The frontier, the area separating Samaria and Galilee, was the perfect place for lepers to gather. These people, because of the disease on their skin, are chased out of society. Here, in the frontier region, the distinction between religion and race disappears as their common affliction brings them together. They eke out a living by begging. As Jesus and the twelve enter a town in this region, these ten lepers follow. Staying at a distance, they cry out to Jesus to have mercy upon them. We can’t even be sure they are looking to be cleansed. They’ve must of heard of Jesus, as they use his name, but it’s likely they just want dinner.
Jesus sees them. That’s all we are told. In seeing their condition, Jesus’ compassion moves him to act. He tells them to go to the priest and have themselves declared clean. Jewish law required a priest to readmit one once healed. Obediently, they turn and walk away. They may not have even known what Jesus had done for them. The text tells us they were healed along the way and the priest declares them clean. Nine continue on with their lives, but one, the Samaritan, returns.
Biblical scholarship suggests this story can be divided into two parts. The first, verses 11 through 14, focuses on healing. Jesus heals all who those afflicted. Verses 14 through 19 centers on salvation. Only one of the ten, the one who recognized his healing as coming from God in the flesh, experiences this deeper healing.
God doesn’t limit his blessings to the faithful. As the often quoted verse goes, “God sends rain on the just and the unjust.” A loving God created us. John 3:16 reminds us of this truth. The difference between the faithful and unfaithful comes in our response to God’s blessings. All ten obeyed Jesus and went to the priests, only one went a step further and returned to worship God in thanksgiving. How about us? Where would we be? Would we acknowledge from where our life and blessings come? Or, would we arrogantly assign the praise due God to ourselves (or someone or something else)?
I once heard a definition for evangelism which resonated with me. It came from a Lutheran pastor out West who wrote: “Evangelism isn’t bringing God to the unbelievers, but helping the unbelievers grasp the ways God has already been graceful to them—and to encourage a response of heart-felt thanksgiving.” If God is all-powerful, as we believe, he is with all people: believers and unbelievers. As Reformed Christians, we talk about common grace, the grace God gives to all his creation. We should point to such grace as evidence of God’s action in the world and give thanks.
One of John Calvin’s favorite metaphors for God was a fountain or a spring. Consider the image of a spring bringing refreshing water bubbling water from the ground. When I come upon such a spring, I can’t help but to drink from it. That’s how Calvin suggests we consider God. In The Institutes of Christian Religion he writes:
For until people sense that they owe everything to God, that they are cherished by his fatherly care, that he is the author of their every good, so that they should ask for nothing apart from him, they will never bow to him in willing reverence. No, unless they fix their happiness firmly in him, they will never devote themselves wholly, truly, and sincerely to him.”
How do we express our thankfulness to God for what he’s done for us? Do we pray at the table, giving thanks? Do we give thanks when a little prayer is answered? Or do we look back over our day in bed, thanking God for the good we experienced? And are we unselfish with the blessings God entrusts to us? Too often, I fear, we see that which we have as an entitlement, something that we deserve. Yet the healthiest people are those with a deep sense of gratitude.
Yet, too often, I’m afraid, we’re like the other nine.We take what we can get and run. We need to change. The tenth leper shows us a better way. He experiences grace and then bows before the King of Kings, which is an appropriate response. Amen.
This sermon was edited from a sermon I preached in 2010 at the First Presbyterian Church of Hastings, MI.

