There is an ancient legend about two angels who flew to earth to gather people’s prayers. Wherever people bowed in prayer--by their bedside at night, in a chapel, or on the side of a mountain--the angels stopped and gathered the prayers into their baskets. Before long the basket carried by one of the angels grew heavy with the weight of what he had collected, but that of the other remained almost empty.

Maybe you can guess why one basket was full, while the other remained empty. Into the first basket were put prayers of petition. “Please give me this . . . Please let me have that.” Into the other went the prayers that said simply, “Thank you.”

“Your basket seems very light,” said one angel to the other.

“Yes,” replied the one who carried basket containing the simple prayer “Thank you.” He added, “People are usually ready enough to pray for what they want, but very few remember to thank God when He grants their requests.”

Wouldn’t you agree with me that these are the two words that distinguish us as human beings from the rest of the animal kingdom: “Thank you”?

Those of you who have smartphones know that one of the most frustrating things about using them is that when the voice inside them--Siri, Cortana, or whomever they may be--gives you the information that you need, there’s no one to say “Thank you” to--not without feeling like a complete idiot.

The need to express gratitude is one of our most human attributes. Some of us even want to say thank you to a piece of electronics. And yet, there are far too many people who simply ignore this simple act of courtesy . . . of expressing their gratitude to others or expressing their gratitude to God.

Samuel Leibowitz, a brilliant criminal lawyer, saved 78 people from dying in the electric chair. He said that not one thanked him.

In the heyday of radio, Art King had a program called, “Job Center of the Air.” He supposedly found jobs for 2500 people. He reports that only ten of the recipients ever expressed their appreciation.

An official of the United States Postal Service, in charge of the Dead Letter Box in Washington, D.C., reported, one year, that he had received hundreds of thousands of letters addressed to “Santa Claus” asking Santa to bring many things, but after Christmas, only one letter came to the box thanking Santa Claus for bringing the toys asked for. (1)

There is something within the spirit of many people that resists the simple act of saying, “Thank you.”

Consider for a moment this event in the life of Jesus. He was walking with his disciples along the border between Samaria and Galilee. They were entering a village when they came upon a band of lepers--ten in all--both Jews and Samaritans. It’s amazing, isn’t it, how mutual misery can cut across social, religious and racial lines? When you’re hurting, like these lepers were hurting, you cannot afford the silly prejudices that afflict the rest of humanity.

Somehow when these lepers saw Jesus they knew he could help them. Was it something in his appearance--something about the way he carried himself? Maybe it was the expression of love on his face.

John Haggai tells about Charles G. Finney, a lawyer of great intellect and scholarship, who became an evangelist after his conversion. It is said that Finney made a greater impact on America than anyone else of his time. He had no entourage, no press corps, no public relations advance team, no public address system. Yet, during one six week period, 30,000 each week people professed faith in Christ under his preaching.

His secret? Even his most vigorous detractors begrudgingly admitted that he had an air of authority about him that commanded attention and respect. They told of one time when he walked into a textile mill in New York State. Before he was introduced, before he had said a word, all eyes turned on him. And even more remarkably, many asked how to get right with God. Nearly the entire work force repented of their sins and professed faith in Christ. He had an authority that captured their attention. (2)

One might expect that Jesus had an even greater “air of authority” than that. “Jesus, Master,” the lepers cried out, “Have mercy upon us.”

How could Jesus deny their request? That is why he had come. His Kingdom was not one of power and might but of loving service. We sometimes forget that, even in the church, that giving loving service is our only reason for being.

There’s a humorous story about a man who injured his thumb on the job. He was told by his foreman to go to the clinic. He stepped inside the clinic and saw an empty room with only a desk and two chairs.

Toward the back of the room there were two doors, one marked, “Illness” and the other marked, “Injury.” The man thought to himself, “I am not sick, I have just hurt my thumb.” He walked through the door marked “Injury.” He found himself in a second room. It was also empty except for a desk and two chairs.

Toward the back door there were two doors, one marked “Internal,” the other marked “External.” The man thought, “It’s my thumb that’s hurt, not something inside.” He walked through the door marked “External.” He found himself still in another room. It was empty except for a desk and two chairs.

Toward the back of the room there were two doors, one marked, “Therapy” and one marked “Treatment.” He thought to himself, “I don’t need counseling or therapy. What I really need is to have this thumb treated.” He walked through the door marked, “Treatment.” He found himself in a fourth room. It was empty except for a desk and two chairs.

Toward the back of the room there were two doors--one was marked “Major” and the other marked “Minor.” He thought to himself, “This isn’t a major illness, it’s just my thumb that is hurt.” He walked through the door marked “Minor.” He found himself outside the clinic on the street.

He walked on back to his work area. The foreman saw him and said, “Were they able to help you?”

The man said, “I’m not sure--but I will tell you one thing, that is the best organized outfit I’ve ever seen!”

Organization is a wonderful thing, but are people really being helped? That’s the only question to be asked about a clinic. That’s the only question to be asked about a church, too. An effective church needs to be well organized. But the best organized church in the world might as well be torn down if it is not truly helping people.

Jesus’ whole reason for being was to reach out to people. So, when he encountered these lepers, he sought to minister to them. However, he took a most unusual approach to his task. Instead of laying hands on them or speaking a word of healing to them, he said to them, “Go show yourselves to the priests.”

This is interesting. The Old Testament required the cured leper to have his cure validated by a temple priest. But these men had not yet been healed. Jesus was requiring an act of faith out of them. They were to begin their pilgrimage to show themselves to the temple priests even before their healing was complete! That is faith.

But something marvelous happened Luke tells us as they were making this journey. Their skin began to show signs of healing. Within moments their open wounds closed and disappeared. They were suddenly and wondrously healed. No longer would they be outcasts in their community. No longer would they be rejected even by their own families. They were clean. Can’t you just see them jumping, shouting, and praising God? What a celebration that must have been--these men with decaying and disfigured bodies suddenly discovered that they had been made whole. They were surely delirious with joy, and yet only one of them went back to Jesus to say, “Thank you.” That one was a Samaritan. This was important to Luke, whose Gospel was directed to Gentiles. It was a Samaritan who returned to give thanks.

“Were not all ten cleansed?” Jesus asked. “Where are the other nine? Has no one returned to give praise to God except this foreigner?” And he said to that grateful Samaritan, “Rise and go; your faith has made you well.”

Jesus knew that these lepers were not completely healed until they had learned to say “Thank you.” Their bodies may have been made whole, but their hearts were still diseased, if they did not feel a profound sense of gratitude for what they had experienced. No matter how stunning your physical appearance, no matter how impressive your intellectual credentials, no matter how complete your material success, you are still morally and spiritually inadequate if you have not learned to say, “Thank you” to the one who is the source of all you have and all you are.

Saying thank you is a statement, first of all, of our character. Is there anything that makes us think less of a person than to bestow upon them a gift and never receive a simple, “Thank you”? I know, ideally, we ought to give and not expect anything in return. And yes, I know--particularly in the case of new brides and grooms--it takes much time and energy to acknowledge all of those gifts. But saying “Thank you” is one of those things in life that separate the sheep and the goats. Everyone may feel gratitude but to go to the trouble of expressing that gratitude is a sign of character. It says something about the kind of person you are.

There was a beautiful motion picture years ago titled, “Song of Norway.” It was about composer Edvard Grieg’s struggle to succeed in his chosen profession. Grieg had a friend who assisted him during this time of struggle. Indeed, Grieg’s friend poured his life into making this brilliant young composer a success.

Later this friend lay dying and he sent word to Edvard, “Come see me.”

But Edvard was now a star. There were concerts and receptions and famous people to meet and Edvard never made it back to his friend’s bedside. He never went to the trouble of simply acknowledging his gratitude to someone who had helped him at great personal expense. Edvard Grieg may have been a great composer, but as a man, he was not much.

That is what disturbed Jesus. These nine men may have been jumping and shouting with bodies that were now whole and strong, but they still had leprosy of the heart. There was still decay and disfigurement within. Saying, “thank you” is a statement, first of all, of our character.

Saying “Thank you” is also a statement of grace.

Perhaps the greatest barrier to saying, “thank you” for many of us is our pride. We don’t like acknowledging our dependence on anybody--even God. We fancy ourselves to be self-made persons. We like to think that we have no one to thank but ourselves. How blind we are.

I am convinced that this is the primary detriment to joy in the church today. How can we thank God for our deliverance from sin and death when we are convinced that we are already pretty good people who deserve everything God has given us? We don’t see our sickness, so how can we thank our Physician?

The Associated Press once carried a story about a woman in Seattle who carried on an extensive search for an U.S. Army doctor who saved her life in a Nazi death camp more than a half century earlier. “I wish I could talk to him,” the 62-year old woman said. “I would thank him and tell him it’s wonderful to see him again at last.”

In May, 1945, U.S. troops liberated a concentration camp in Austria. A doctor who was part of the liberating army treated this woman who was a prisoner in the camp for malnutrition. She had spent five months in the camp and had not eaten in six weeks. This woman remembered the kindness and respect the doctor showed her by keeping her covered as he examined her. But she never had the opportunity to thank him.

For more than twenty years after she moved to the U.S. she searched diligently to locate him through the Department of Defense, but with no success. But she never gave up hope. She said she still longed to be able to see him and say face to face, “Thank you, for saving my life.” (3)

John Newton felt that same impulse when God rescued him from the guilt of his life as a slave trader. That’s why he wrote “Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me . . .” It’s a hymn of gratitude as well as praise.

You and I are nice, decent people. We are not slave traders. Still, if we could look deep into our heart of hearts, some of us would see a decay and disfigurement as severe as that of the lepers. There is within each of us a spiritual leprosy that denies the love and charity of others--that degrades our dignity as children of the divine--that twists and distorts that which is good and wholesome and eternal. If we could see ourselves as God sees us in our incompleteness and imperfection, then we would cry out with joy that the God of all creation accepts us and loves us as we are, and gave his Son in our behalf.

Saying “thank you” is a statement of character; it is a statement of grace. Finally, saying “thank you” is a statement of worship. That is why we are here this day. That is what our hymns are about and our offering and every part of our worship. It is our humble way of saying, “Thank you.” That is why worship is not optional for the Christian. It is what being a Christian is all about.

Native American Chief Dan George in his book, My Heart Soars, describes that kind of gratitude when he tells about his love for his father. He writes, “I remember as a little boy, fishing with him up Indian River and I can still see him as the sun rose above the mountain top in the early morning . . . I can see him standing by the water’s edge with his arms raised above his head while he softly moaned . . . ‘Thank You, Thank You.’ It left a deep impression on my young mind.” (4)

That’s why we are here. To say, “Thank You . . . Thank You . . . for healing us and loving us and watching over us.” It’s a statement of our character. It’s a statement of our faith. And it is a reason for our worship. I hope you will take time this day to stand before God and simply say, “Thank you . . . Thank you . . . Thank you.” Amen.

1. From a sermon by the Rev. Tony Bland.

2. John Haggai, Lead On (Waco: Word Books, 1986).

3. Contributed. Source unknown.

4. (Hancock House, 1974).