FROM THE PASTOR
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Luke 17:11-19
“On the way to Jerusalem Jesus was passing along between Samaria and Galilee. And as he entered a village, he was met by ten lepers, who stood at a distance, who lifted up their voices…”
Lepers who stood at a distance. That is the heartbreaking thing about leprosy. It is a disease which not only attacks the body, but also isolates the soul. A leper is extrememly contagious. The disease slowly eats away the body. Its’ threat to others is palpable. In Jesus’ time lepers were required by law, to keep away from the general population. They were forced to cry out a warning to any who would approach, “Unclean! Unclean!” They could not worship with the people, they could not live in their families and villages. They could not hold any job. They were reduced to begging and living on the fringes of society. Outcasts. Lepers. Bereft of human community. They suffered alone or with one another until they died a terrible death.
Thomas. He was a modern day leper, lying alone in a hospital bed, dying of AIDS. “They came like a SWAT team to get me,” he said, describing the gloves and masks and protection worn by the ambulance squad who brought him from his apartment to the hospital. He wanted to get ready to die, to speak of and confess the things on his heart. “It’s not the body getting ready to die that is bothering me,” he said. “It’s just that I am so afraid and feel so all alone. Nobody will come near me.”
“The lepers lifted up their voices and said, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.”
Thomas spoke of his life and people he was holding near to his memories. He spoke of times when he let himself and others down and asked if he could be forgiven. He spoke of heaven and hell, of dear ones who would be left behind. He mentioned with gratitude the friends who were standing with him. He recalled with tears his struggle to know and be known by his parents. “Can God forgive me? Is God punishing me? Does Jesus love me?” he asked.
“When he saw them he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went they were cleansed.”
I spoke the words of absolution. “Thomas, almighty God in his mercy, has given his Son to die for you, and for his sake, forgives you all your sins. As a called and ordained minister of the Church of Christ, and by his authority, I therefore declare to you the entire forgiveness of all your sins, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” I took off my gloves and mask (worn as much for the protection of his battered immune system as for my own safety) and shared communion with him. I then shared the peace and got down on the bed and hugged Thomas. We cried together. Later at home I washed and scrubbed with such a savage fury that I was ashamed of my lack of faith.
“Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice; and he fell on his face at Jesus’ feet, giving him thanks. Now he was a Samaritan.”
As I stood at the door taking my leave of Thomas he said goodbye, and then he said this: “I’ll be ok. Stephen. I thank God for my life, and I thank you for touching me.” Several days later he died in Christ. The last words I ever heard from his lips were words of thanksgiving and gratitude.
“Then said Jesus, ‘were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?’ And he said to him,’Rise and go your way; your faith has made you well.”
My dear friends in Christ, there may be many things on our hearts tonight as we offer thanks to God. But this above all. We, too, are lepers, Samaritans, AIDS victims, in that we were once apart from God, and each time we sin we isolate ourselves from the only true love which is eternal. We too worry, get ill, know that we are mortal and will die. These things isolate us and weigh down our hearts. But on this evening of gratitude five thanks for this above all. God has touched us in Jesus Christ. Nothing can separate us from the love of Christ, neither life nor death…
The liturgy of the eucharist is called the Great Thanksgiving. On the night of his betrayal, in the shadow of his own death took bread and wine and gave thanks.
So come to the table. Lift up your hearts. We lift them to the Lord. Let us give thanks to the Lord our God. It is right to give God thanks and praise. For God has touched us. Even now. Amen.
Stephen Bouman