Interrupted by Gratitude

 Luke 7: 11-19

Ten Lepers Healed
William West

October 12, 2025

 

In Leviticus, there are several pages of rules for

what people should do when they have leprosy.

 

Now, when the Bible says “leprosy”,

 it doesn’t necessarily mean what

we call Hansen’s disease today.

Biblical leprosy was sort of a catch-all term

for a wide range of visible skin diseases.

 

Some were contagious, some were not—

but because no one could tell which was which,

people treated all of them as dangerous.

And so there was fear. A lot of fear.

 

To deal with that fear, rules were made

religious rules, and community rules

about how people with these diseases were supposed to live.

In Leviticus, it says:

 

“The person who has the leprous^* disease shall

wear torn clothes and let the hair of their head be disheveled;

and they shall cover their upper lip and cry out, ‘Unclean, unclean.’

They shall remain unclean as long as they have the disease;

they are unclean. They shall live alone;

their dwelling shall be outside the camp.”

 

They are to live outside the camp. Away from everyone.

Imagine what that must have felt like, 

cut off from your family, your community, your place of worship.

The assumption in those days was 

that you must have done something wrong to deserve it.

You must be being punished.

So not only were you physically ill,

you were also socially and spiritually exiled.

 

And this fear an isolation were not rare, because

comes up time and again in the New Testament,

including this story today and in the Hebrew

Scriptures as we see in the first story today.

 

Even important people were not immune to leprosy--

Namaan was a commander of the kings army. Very important.

But even his power and money couldn’t even buy him relief.

Now Namaan didn’t spend much time “outside the camp”

on the streets, but he was still isolated “inside his camp” in his palace,

and there was nothing he could do to find a cure,

like everyone else, he just had to wait it out and hope and endure.

A miserable life.

 

But obviously, some people did find relief

from some of these skin diseases,

because there are also extensive instructions for what to do

when a person’s skin clears up.

And the first thing they do is to show themselves to the priest.

Here’s more from Leviticus:

When there is on the skin of one’s body a boil that has healed, 

and in the place of the boil there appears a white swelling

or a reddish-white spot, it shall be shown to the priest. . .

 

The descriptions go on and on into excruciating detail.

This is why when people are doing a read-through in the bible,

I recommend jumping right over Leviticus and

reading some other books with stories.

 

Now, I can’t say that I’m disappointed that the duties of

religious leaders seem to have changed considerably

over the past few thousand years.

Not that people haven’t felt comfortable

showing me their share of surgery scars

or ask my opinion on a rash or two,

but I’m grateful I don’t have to inspect anyone’s

skin to decide if they can come back to church.

 

But this was one of the roles of the religious leaders back then.

And the first thing a person should do after being cured

was to go and show themselves to a priest,

then go take a bath.

It’s all written in Leviticus for you to see,

if you still decide to read it against my recommendation.

 

So that’s the world Jesus is walking through in today’s story.

Jesus is traveling along the border

between Samaria and Galilee when

ten people with leprosy approach him.

 

Because they’re unclean, they keep their distance,

just as Leviticus commanded..

But they call out to him—

“Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!”

And Jesus does.

 

He doesn’t wave his hand or say a long prayer

or even touch them. He just says,

“Go and show yourselves to the priests.”

 

That’s it.

He’s telling them to take

the next step in the process—

to begin the re-entry ritual.

They are already healed, though they may not even realize it yet.

 

So off they go, all ten of them,

doing exactly what they were supposed to do.

They follow the religious law, go to the priests,

prepare to rejoin their communities.

 

Except one.

One man, seeing that he’s been healed, stops. Turns around.

Returns to Jesus, praising God with a loud voice.

He throws himself at Jesus’ feet and thanks him.

 

And Luke tells us, “He was a Samaritan.”

Once again, the person who stops to do the right thing,

the compassionate thing, the grateful thing,

is part of the group everyone else was looking down on.

Jesus even sounds a little surprised:

“Were not ten cleansed? Where are the other nine?”

Ten were healed, but only one was interrupted by gratitude.

 

That’s really what this story is about. Gratitude.

Sometimes I try to find a new angle

or a hidden meaning in a gospel story

but this one doesn’t hide anything.

It’s right there on the surface. Give thanks.

That’s it.

 

And yet—how often do we forget to do it?

We move from one task to the next,

from one email to the next, from one obligation to the next.

Someone helps us, someone shows us kindness,

and we forget to say thank you.

Not because we’re ungrateful people

but because we’re busy, distracted, preoccupied with the next thing.

 

But gratitude is holy interruption.

It’s stopping on the road

to our next destination to recognize

the goodness that has already met us.

 

This Samaritan man had every reason to keep walking.

He was about to get his life back

his home, his family, his future.

But he stopped. He turned around. He gave thanks.

And in that moment, Jesus tells him,

“Your faith has made you well.”

All ten were healed physically, but one was made whole.

 

Being thanked feels good, doesn’t it?

It’s nice when someone notices your effort.

But gratitude does even more for the one who gives it.

Gratitude changes the way we live.

 

We live in a time when outrage is the air we breathe.

Turn on the TV, scroll through your phone

there’s always something to be angry about.

And some of those things are worth being angry about.

There is injustice, suffering, violence, and pain.

But if we only live in anger and outrage,

we become part of the sickness in the world.

It’s hard to feel gratitude and outrage at the same time.

 

Gratitude doesn’t ignore the pain

it just widens the lens to see

that there’s also goodness, beauty, mercy, love, and grace

still at work around us.

 

Science even agrees:

gratitude improves people’s lives,

our personal lives, our mental health,

it relieves anxiety and depression,

it improves relationships,

gratitude lowers stress hormones,

builds resilience, and improves self-esteem.

 

Gratitude strengthens us; it heals us.

But beyond science,

for people of faith, gratitude is a spiritual practice.

It is a way of seeing God’s hand in the ordinary.

It’s a way of saying and admitting:

I did not get here on my own.

I am not self-made.

God has met me with grace.

 

So maybe that’s the invitation today

to let gratitude interrupt us.

To stop for a moment, turn around, and give thanks:

For the people who have walked with us.

For the healing that has come in ways we didn’t expect.

For the daily mercies that are easy to miss.

 

And one last thing I noticed

in this little story, the whole of Jesus life and ministry is

encapsulated:

Jesus is traveling,

meeting people where they are,

he encounters the forgotten and outcast of society,

he is not afraid to engage with them,

while doing that, he follows the tradition of his religion,

but he’s also not afraid to step outside of the

lines of what most people do and expect,

and he heals the people,

and releases them from their captivity.

 

And all we can do in response –

in the face of such grace and mercy –

is to give thanks.