Luke 17:11-19 · Ten Healed of Leprosy
Healing
Luke 17:11-19
Sermon
by Molly F. James
Loading...

When I was in fourth or fifth grade, I was helping my dad in the kitchen. I had been taught how to use a knife properly, but I wasn’t always perfect at it. I slipped and knicked my finger. It was just a small cut but it was on the knuckle, so if the cut was going to heal, we had to find a way to splint my finger. I remember being very proud that my dad simply took a piece of kindling from the pile for our wood stove, cut off two small pieces, bandaged my finger and taped it with adhesive tape. Voila! Within a matter of minutes I was on the road to healing. My finger healed quickly and you can’t even see a scar. It is as if it never happened.

I think we often wish more of life was like that. When we are sick or injured, we hope and pray for healing. We want a transformation. We want our health completely restored. We want it to be as though we were never sick or hurt in the first place. We want transformation as we see in our scriptures today.

In 2 Kings we hear the story of Naaman, the army commander, who was healed from leprosy when he finally followed the instructions of the prophet Elisha and went to bathe in the River Jordan seven times. Amusingly, Naaman was initially resistant to this source of healing as he expected a great fanfare or an endurance trial or challenge in order to be healed rather than merely just bathing in the Jordan. Yet that was not what was required of him. When he finally followed Elisha’s instructions, at the urging of the servants, Naaman was made clean. And this was some cleansing. It was not just that Naaman was healed of his leprosy, his flesh was completely restored to what it was before he ever had it. He had the skin of a young boy after he bathed. Naaman got exactly what we wish for — complete healing and transformation.

Then in Luke’s gospel we get another story of a miraculous healing of lepers. The ten lepers asked Jesus to have mercy on them. Jesus told them to go show themselves to the priests, and Jesus granted their wish, and “poof,” just like that they were healed. The leprosy was gone. Again, just what we wish for when we are the ones who are afflicted.

I have to admit, I actually have a hard time with these miraculous healing stories in the Bible. I find them rather frustrating. Because while the small cuts and bruises of life do heal over, the major experiences of pain and suffering in our lives do not disappear in an instant. Even when we are healed, the scars, the after effects of our treatments, the memories of our traumas remain. For most of us, healing, when it does happen, doesn’t look anything like the stories we have in our scriptures this morning. And, of course, we can also think of those times when the healing doesn’t happen — or it least not the way we think it should. Those times when we fervently prayed for a very different outcome than the one we got.

Those are the moments when we want to question God and perhaps even yell at God. We want to say “God, why do you give us these stories of perfect miraculous healing in our scriptures, but then you don’t heal my brother, my mother, my child?” When we feel that way, we want to rail at and curse God. And well we should. Life feels completely unfair. And we are in good company being angry at God. The psalmist was frequently angry at God. Moses got angry at God. The Israelites were angry at God. One of my favorite Anglican thinkers, C.S. Lewis, got very angry at God when his wife died. It is okay to be angry at God — especially when we have experienced an outcome far different than what we were hoping for. What is not helpful, though, is to stay angry at God. Because staying angry at God only serves to deepen our own suffering, and it is a sign that we are too narrow in our focus.

Yes, there are stories like today’s scriptures of miraculous healing that are rarely realized in our own lives. But note I said rarely and not never. Miraculous healings do happen. If we are paying attention, we will see them. I can personally attest. I myself, was born twelve weeks prematurely with a 50% chance of survival. And here I am today. When I was thirteen, I was diagnosed with bone cancer and given a 70% chance of survival. And here I am today. And I am sure you can attest to miracles that have happened in your lives. Miracles do happen. Just not always how or when we would want.

And most importantly, we must remember that not all stories of healing and transformation in the scriptures happen as they did for Naaman in 2 Kings or the lepers in Luke’s gospel. Jacob was injured when he wrestled with the angel and he walked with a limp. The resurrected Jesus still has his wounds. Transformation and healing can happen even when things don’t go perfectly, even when things are not brought back to the way they were before.

In fact, it is a central — if not the — central tenet of our Christian faith that God brings new life out of brokenness. That is exactly what Holy Week and Easter are all about. The harsh realities of Good Friday are about as broken and painful as one can get. But then comes Easter. Then comes God’s affirmation to us that death, pain, and suffering do not have the last word. Love does. New life can come out of the most broken and painful moments in our lives.

We Christians are invited to always be on the lookout for how the brokenness of our lives can be transformational. I invite you, particularly if you are struggling or have struggled with challenges in your life — if there is brokenness or pain, illness, or injury — to take on a commitment to engage with that brokenness and seek after new ways of understanding it. In seeing our brokenness as a source of transformation, as a place out of which to share God’s healing love with the world, we can live lives that affirm the beautiful truth that is at the heart of our faith: the conviction that the love of God is stronger than anything and everything in our world — even brokenness and death.

Come, let us journey together and build up hope. Amen.

CSS Publishing Co., Inc., Ordinary gratitude : Cycle C sermons for Pentecost 23 through Christ the King based on the gospel texts, by Molly F. James