An Honest Confession (Luke 17: 5-10)

 There is a really big assumption in today’s scripture reading that I’m not comfortable with. 

The reading assumes I have - or have had - a slave. “Who among you,” it says, “would say to your slave, ‘Come, take your place at the table…’”

Well, I wouldn’t tell my slave that, because I never have been, and never will be, a slaveowner. 

It’s an offensive assumption!

And I know that, in the scripture, Jesus is speaking to a specific group of people, but he’s telling a parable, and through Luke Jesus is also speaking to us…to all of us… which means that assumption is made to all of us…

Who among you (I ask), likes being compared to a slaveowner? 

I imagine that you are as offended by that assumption as I am. Or at least, I hope you are as offended by that assumption as I am.

I don’t even like it when someone suggests that my ancestors may have been slaveowners. I never heard any stories of any of my ancestors owning slaves. I’d like to think that they were against such evil, that my ancestors were morally opposed to slavery even when society at large was not.

But I really have no idea. It may be that my ancestors were just too poor to own slaves. Maybe they would have if they could have. 

Or, maybe there were slaveowners among my ancestors, but those stories have been erased.

Only the stories we want to remember get passed down.

Whether it’s family history or national history, we tend to erase ugly truths and highlight only the stories that present a perfect, pure, unblemished narrative.

So, forgive me for not liking this scripture that assumes I’m a slaveowner, or that I can relate to being a slaveowner. And forgive me for never having preached on this scripture before. 

The lectionary repeats every three years, which means I’ve had four or five opportunities to preach on this scripture since I first came here to Bixby Knolls Christian Church over fourteen years ago, but somehow I’ve always found one of the other lectionary scriptures to preach on, or a scripture from outside of the lectionary.

I always found something else to preach on, because I don’t like the assumption this scripture makes - the assumption that I, or that any of us, would know what it’s like to be a slaveowner.

But today, I am preaching on this scripture… because I’ve come to realize that maybe my focus shouldn’t be solely on the unpleasant assumptions this scripture makes about me. Maybe my focus should be on the unpleasant assumptions I make about others.

Assumptions that expose the racism that exists within me.

Yes, I confess: there is racism in me. 

That’s a hard confession to make, because I know how very evil and sinful racism is.

And no, it’s not the kind of racism that would turn people into slaves, or would burn a cross while wearing a white hood, or anything like that.

But there are different types of racism, and some are more subtle and hidden than others.

When I substitute teach, I know my main job is to maintain discipline and order in the classroom. Some days that’s easier than others.

And it involves a lot of split-second decisions…

For example: a student wads up a piece of paper and throws it across the room toward the wastebasket. Do I enforce the rule about no throwing things in class? Or do I laugh and maybe make a joke about whether the student should, or should not, try out for the basketball team?

It’s a difficult decision on my part, especially since the teachers I sub for all have different rules. Some are extremely strict, while others have gone as far as to put a tiny toy basketball hoop over their wastebasket.

What if, on one particular day, I harshly reprimand one student for wadding up and throwing his paper, but not another? I start to wonder: Why? Why did I enforce the rules differently for two different students?

• Was it the maturity level of the class? 

• Was it my assessment of how likely it was that things would get out of hand? 

• Was it how well the students were working in the moments leading up to the incident?

Often, those are things that affect my reaction, and all are reasonable. These or any number of other things might justify why I would react differently.

But a few times, I’ve found no justification for my reacting one way with one student, and another way with a different student.

Then I have to ask myself: Was it because of the students’ race that I reacted differently?

It is hard to know for sure, but there are times when I find it impossible to rule out racism as a reason. Somewhere deep within me, there is something that can lead me to treat one student differently than another student, because of how I perceived their race.

I made an assumption about one student, about their motives, their intentions - and I made a different assumption about another student - and I could not find any reason other than race to explain why my assumptions were different. 

Believe me, I tried. I’d tell myself, surely there must have been some reason, some good reason, why I treated this student differently than that student.

But sometimes, I can’t find any good reason.

And that’s how I know that I am still not yet completely free of racism and prejudice.

And that’s the kind of racism that still exists within many of us today - probably all of us, at least all of us who are white or who get perceived as being white. It’s the kind of racism that is widespread in our society. It’s the kind of racism that even exists within our church.

That’s why, in 1967, the Disciples of Christ established its reconciliation ministry.

And it’s why, in 1971, we established Reconciliation as a permanent office and fund for working to support racial reconciliation and anti-racist projects.

And then, in 1996, the General Board of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) approved the formation of a church-wide process to discern the nature of racism in North America and to develop ways of helping congregations address racism. Out of this process, an Anti-Racism/Pro-Reconciliation initiative was established in 1998. The initiative is based on several premises, including:

1. Racism is a spiritual and theological dilemma as well as a social evil;

2. Racist practice exists throughout the life of the church and needs to be addressed. The church needs to get its own “house” in order even as it looks toward being a transformational agent in the larger world;

3. Racism is a systemic problem with historical root causes.

(This month, BKCC supports this reconciliation ministry by sending a portion of the offering money received to the reconciliation office…)

Every five years, I’m required to complete an anti-racism/pro-reconciliation training, in order to maintain my standing as a minister in the church. I think these trainings deserve much of the credit for my ability to seriously ponder how racism affects my own actions.

Because learning to see the racism within oneself is not an easy thing. It’s not something that happens just on its own, without serious intention or effort.

I feel like we almost need a 12-step program, like the ones addicts use, where people can go and confess that there is racism at work within them.

“Hi, I’m Danny, and I’m a racist…”

We wouldn’t introduce ourselves that way because we think racism is good…

And it wouldn’t because we are overtly or intentionally racist in how we treat people…

And it wouldn’t be because we want to be racist…

But the racism of our history and our society is so pervasive, that it’s impossible to not be contaminated by it; it is a “systemic problem with historical root causes…”

…and it’s impossible to break free from it…

…unless you start examining your own motives and assumptions, and start questioning why you make the assumptions you do, and why you treat people the way you do…

…which is difficult work.

And most people aren’t up to that difficult work.

Most people, horrified at the thought of slavery and of being associated with KKK-style racism, insist, “I’m not racist.”

Some will expand on that; they’ll say, “I’m not racist, but…” and what follows next usually exposes how racism is at work within them, in ways they aren’t willing to admit, or in ways they themselves aren’t even aware of.

And in many school districts and communities and states, teachers are being prohibited from even talking about how race is embedded in society, or how racism continues to shape society today. This push to deny reality comes not only from white nationalists, but also from people who just haven’t been able to open their eyes to how pervasive racism actually is.

If we refuse to talk about racism in our history and racism in our society, then it becomes even harder to recognize how racism affects our own actions, how racism influences our policies and our laws, how racism prevents us from living in a society of peace and justice and equality for all.

Just like the addict who doesn’t want to admit that they don’t have a problem, we don’t want to admit that racism has shaped our history and continues to shape our society and our lives today. 

But God is calling us to open our eyes. God is calling us to see the truth. God is calling us, as a church, to be pro-reconciliation and anti-racism.

This is the path to healing.

This is how we achieve wholeness for our fragmented world. It’s how we unite with the entire human family and the one church of Christ which this day - World Communion Sunday - celebrates.

This is how we show love to our neighbor. It is impossible to fully love one’s neighbor if you do not at least question the assumptions you make about them. 

This is how we find freedom from sin.

As a church, we are committed to taking a good, hard look at our own assumptions and prejudices, confessing our sin, and repenting, so that - as Christ’s church - we can help transform the world and bring God’s vision of wholeness to fruition.

Then, and only then, will we be free from our bondage to sin; and the Spirit will lead us to freedom. And when we are free from the sin of racism, when our church is free from the sin of racism, when our nation is free from the sin of racism, we will be able to say: we once were lost, but now we are found; we were blind, but now we see.

Because we will have finally uncovered what it is that kept us from fully loving our neighbor as ourself; and we will be able to love more freely, more completely. And the kingdom of God - where there are no distinctions separating humans from one another, but where all are one in Christ - will become real on earth. The kingdom of God - where the full image and presence of God is seen in every person - will become present within us and among us.

"Wholeness and Gratitude" (Luke 17:11-19)

Let us think for a moment… Let us imagine… what might have happened to “the other nine,” the lepers who did not return and give thanks. Jesus cleansed ten lepers, but only one returned to thank Jesus. Let us use our imaginations….
It is of course speculation. We don’t know what became of those other nine. We can only guess. Yet it is the scripture itself that invites us to guess. It is Jesus who invites us to speculate; it was he who asked, out loud, “Were not ten made clean? Where are the other nine?”

No answer is given in scripture. It is up to the reader to wonder, to imagine, to speculate, to guess…



Leper #1: What’s his story? Well, when he saw that he had been made clean, his first thought was his family. How long had it been since he had last seen them? For many years, as a leper, he had had no contact with them. Like all lepers and other unclean people, he was forced to live outside the city and keep his distance from all others. But now…

He ran home, anxious to embrace his wife for the first time in many years. But upon arriving, he discovered that she was now living with another man. He asked her to return to him, but she only cried, “I can’t. I thought you were dead.” And she shut the door.

So he ended up cursing the healing that he had received. Just being healed wasn’t enough. He wanted his life back.



Leper #2, when he saw, as he walked toward the temple, that he had been healed, he started walking faster, running even, eager to return to the city and get on with his life. On his way, he passed by some beggars, some men who themselves had leprosy. They kept their distance, but of course he could not avoid the sound of their cries.

Nevertheless, he kept on the path, ignoring as best he could the cries that he heard. He had no mercy. Having been healed of leprosy himself, he wanted absolutely no reminders of his former life. Thus, his life became a life of denial and avoiding realities.



Leper #3 believed that he was someone special, since he had been healed by Jesus. After all, there were a lot of lepers who were not healed. Why did Jesus pick him? Surely, he said to himself, it was because Jesus saw something special in him.

And if Jesus saw something special in him, then surely others would, too. He lived his life expecting people to treat him as someone special. He expected to have a job handed to him, a well-paying job that didn’t require him to work too hard; and he actually got such a job, once, but it only lasted one day. As soon as the boss saw how lazy he was, and noticed his overblown sense of entitlement, he fired him.

Unable to find a job after that, leper #3 was forced to resort to begging. Thus, he lived as an outcast, unclean, his life after the healing being not all that different from his life before.



Leper #4, having been a leper for so long, didn’t know how to transition to a new life. He felt uncomfortable just talking to people. It had been so long since he had taken part in a normal conversation. Rejoining society proved very difficult for him, and soon he was plagued by doubts: doubts about whether he really deserved to be cleansed; doubts about whether he really belonged within the city walls with everyone else.

Maybe Jesus had made a mistake? Life in the city was so new, so different, so bewildering and confusing.

Eventually, he went back to living outside the city, among the lepers. “Why are you here?” they asked him; and he said, “Because I don’t know how else to live.”



Leper #5 did a little better at adjusting to society and fitting in. He managed to get a job, become a manager, and eventually become quite rich. He built a large house, and had a large wall built around his house to protect his wealth.

Having gone from the bottom of society to the top, he was always afraid of losing everything and falling back down to the bottom. So he hid himself within the walls he built, along with his money, never going outside, always fearful, and living every bit as much an outcast as he was before, the only difference being that now his exile was self-imposed.



Leper #6 felt that, because he was cleansed, he should devote his life to easing the suffering of others. He wanted to dedicate his life to this cause, which he believed was now his life’s purpose. He promised himself that as soon as he got himself together, as soon as he got his own life back on track, as soon as things were going smoothly for him, that he would begin the work that he felt called to do.

However, things never did go quite as smoothly as he wanted them to. He felt that his life was always almost—but not quite—on track, and he never did get around to fulfilling his life’s purpose.



As soon as leper #7 saw that he had been healed, his first thought was actually to return to Jesus and give thanks. But then he started to doubt. “He said to himself, “What do I have that is of any worth to give in return as an expression of my thanks? What can I do with my life that would honor the God who healed me? I have no money. I’m not a good speaker. I’m not particularly wise when it comes to religion. I’m really not very useful at all.” And he fell into a deep depression.



Leper #8 was excited and happy that, having been healed, he could now rejoin society. When he was a leper, both those who stared at him and those who averted their eyes affected him deeply. He so wanted to be accepted among mainstream society! Having been healed, he eagerly sought to prove himself and find the acceptance he longed for.

However, he soon discovered that some people will always find a reason to judge and criticize. He sought their approval and acceptance, but they said, “So what if your leprosy is gone? You’re still not one of us. Your leprosy may be gone, but you’re still a freak. You still don’t belong. You’ll always be different.”

Seeing himself only through the eyes of his tormentors, his bullies, unable to see himself through the eyes of the God who had cleansed him and healed him, he went out and hung himself.



Leper #9 noticed that all of those who were healed were, like him, Jews; all except one. One was a Samaritan.

He wondered why Jesus would bother healing a Samaritan. The more he thought about it, the more offended he became…. and the more he decided to prove, through his own life, that only Jews were worthy of such attention.

He devoted himself to being the best Jew possible, as if to prove that Jews were better than anyone else, especially Samaritans. However, he became known as an arrogant, judgmental man, full of bitterness, a person who no one wanted to be around. This just made him try even harder, which in turn just made him even more bitter. And along with the bitterness, hidden within him, was a deep sense of loneliness.



When we hear Jesus ask, “Where are the other nine?” I think we tend to hear a tone of judgment and criticism in his voice, as in, “Where are the other nine? They should be here!” But I think it was with a deep sense of compassion that Jesus asked that question. “Where are the other nine? I wanted their healing to lead to a life of wholeness, but I fear that it has not.”



The tenth leper – the Samaritan – he alone returned to give thanks. He alone returned to praise God, even before he went to the priests to be examined. And he alone heard Jesus say to him, “Go on your way; your faith has made you well. Your faith has made you whole.”

Do you notice how being made well, being made whole – receiving what in Greek is called sozo, healing, wholeness, salvation – comes after this tenth leper returns to give thanks? All this comes after he returns to praise God. All this comes after he places worshiping and praising God first in his priority list, ahead of even showing himself to the priests, as Jesus encouraged him to do?

When I follow the scripture’s invitation and contemplate what might have happened to the other nine, I find it hard to imagine that they found this same wholeness in their lives. I think that’s because the more I study and contemplate this, the more I realize that wholeness and gratitude go together. You don’t get one without the other.

The tenth leper returned to give thanks and to praise God. The tenth leper was made whole. It seems quite clear, then, that in order to receive wholeness, in order to be made well, one needs to have a generous heart, one needs to give thanks, one needs to make God the #1 priority in one’s life, knowing that all good things come from God.

That much seems obvious to me. But in examining this story, another question comes to my mind. Why, I wonder, are there ten lepers? Why not 9, or 11, or 100? Numbers are often significant in scripture. Numbers like 7, 12, and 40 appear repeatedly, and are given symbolic significance. And I wonder, is there any significance to the number 10?

Well, I know there are the ten commandments, but the commandments aren’t what came to my mind when I read this story. I thought about how only one out of ten lepers returned to give thanks. One out of ten. One tenth. Where else in scripture do we read about one tenth?

The tithe! Scripture commands God’s people to tithe one-tenth of their income. Originally, that one-tenth was in the form of one-tenth of their crops and their livestock, but as society shifted to one that used money, the tithe came to mean one tenth of one’s income. Basically, out of everything you receive, scripture commands that one-tenth of it be returned to God.

Could it be that the story of one leper out of ten returning to Jesus is a story of returning one tenth of one’s income to God?

The book of Malachi is, to a large extent, a chastisement of people who have failed to tithe. Through Malachi, God accuses the people of robbing him. The people ask how are they robbing God, and God replies, “In your tithes and offerings! You are robbing me, the whole nation of you! Bring the full tithe into the storehouse.”

And then God does something unusual. God invites the people to put him to the test. Elsewhere in scripture, the people are told to not put God to the test, but here, when it comes to the tithe, that doesn’t apply. God says, “Bring the full tithe into the storehouse, so that there may be food in my house, and thus put me to the test; see if I will not open the windows of heaven for you and pour down for you an overflowing blessing.”

One tenth of the lepers returned to Jesus. A tithe of lepers returned to praise God. Jesus gave out ten blessings, and one of the ten was returned to him. And the blessings flowed. They flowed out, back, and then back out again, like a tub of water being sloshed back and forth, harder and harder until the water overflowed, until the blessings overflowed.

That one leper found wholeness. That one leper was made well, because of his faith.

The path of understanding for me on this has been long. I’m not sure I’m yet there. It sounds almost too simple. “Give back to God, and you will be blessed.” It sounds frighteningly close to what is often called a gospel of prosperity, which is popular among some preachers, in which material wealth is promised to those who follow God’s way.

Material wealth is not necessarily promised. But blessings are promised. Overflowing blessings.

I am pretty sure that the tenth leper found his life overflowing with blessings. And the blessings came when he returned to Jesus, and praised God.



Wholeness and gratitude.  Blessings and generous giving.  Today, as we present to God our pledges for the coming year, we do so knowing that we are blessed, that overflowing blessings have come to us through the ministry of Bixby Knolls Christian Church.

So let us celebrate! Let us rejoice! Let us give thanks! Let us praise God!

And if you don’t believe that blessings come to those who tithe, to those who give generously, ask that tenth leper. He didn’t have any money to give, but he returned to Jesus and gave what he could: his thanks and praise.

Or better yet, try it out for yourself. It’s OK: test God in this, in just this one thing. Don’t hold back from God, and see if God will not open the windows of heaven for you and pour down for you an overflowing blessing.

"Challenges and Interruptions" (Luke 17:11-19)

This week, we celebrate Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays of the year, but it is the one holiday that has the potential to create within me conflicted feelings. I’m not sure if it’s because of my upbringing, or the puritanical origins of the holiday itself, or what, but there always seems to be a twinge of guilt associated with Thanksgiving.

It’s as if we have to have this holiday to give thanks, because we’ve not been thankful enough the rest of the year. And then when someone offers the blessing before the Thanksgiving meal, there is always that part in which we ask God to be with those who are less fortunate. I’m not saying we shouldn’t remember the less fortunate, but it just adds to the conflicted feelings that we remember the less fortunate as we indulge in what the nutritionists would say is probably ten days’ worth of calories.

Then there is today’s scripture. In the lectionary, it is the traditional reading for Thanksgiving Day, not the Sunday before Thanksgiving, so we are tweaking the lectionary just a little bit by reading it today.

It’s the story of ten lepers, only one of whom returns to give thanks. The question is asked, “Where are the other nine?” Good question. And what exactly is the point of this story? Is it that most people—90% of all people—are selfish, ungrateful? Is that what the story is saying?
What a muddled mess Thanksgiving has become.

It’s made even worse by the fact that we have this day on which we give thanks for all we have, insisting that we are truly grateful, a day on which we pray for those who are less fortunate. And maybe we do go to sleep that night truly thankful. But then we wake up the next morning, well before sunrise, and rush to the stores, because we and our loved ones don’t have enough stuff—we’ve gotta have more. In some places, it’s crazy pandemonium on the morning after Thanksgiving, as people break down the doors to get in the stores.

Where did gratefulness go? Where did thanksgiving go?

What a muddled mess.

I’ve already heard in the news this year that, once again, some Christian groups are upset with stores that don’t use the word Christmas in their holiday promotions and decorations. But I can’t help but wonder: would Christ really want to be associated with all that shopping madness?

I’ve given up trying to understand the day-after-Thanksgiving shopping madness. But I haven’t given up on this scripture.

It’s interesting that those nine who didn’t return to Jesus—they were the ones who did what Jesus said. Jesus told them to go to the temple and show themselves to the priest. The Samaritan, once he realized he was healed, returned to Jesus; that’s not what Jesus said to do.

Perhaps he was truly grateful and wanted to express his thanks. Or, perhaps he knew that, since he was a Samaritan, he wouldn’t be welcome in the temple, anyway, so why bother going?

There are many ways of looking at this scripture. I’ve preached on this story numerous times over the years, usually—but not always—around Thanksgiving, and every sermon is different. Sometimes those sermons are cynical and negative, and reflect the complexity and “muddlement” that exists in my own mind.

But of course, giving thanks—expressing gratitude—this is an inherently good thing for us to do. Jesus found tremendous meaning and fulfillment in giving to others, and giving thanks to God for his unique role in history. I don’t think he gave thanks, or gave of himself, simply for the benefit of others. I mean, I think giving to benefit others was a big part of it, but I also think he himself was blessed in the process. Many self-help books that are out there today say that if you want to succeed in life, if you want a life that has meaning, if you want to live a life of abundance, you need to start by expressing gratitude and generosity. Even books that tell you how to get rich will say you need to be generous. These are financial books, not spiritual books, and yet they say that if you try to hold on too tightly to your blessings, you’ll lose them. Instead, share. Be generous. Be grateful. And the blessings will return to you many times over.

In giving thanks, in expressing gratitude, the blessings flow both ways. The Samaritan who returned to Jesus: he was blessed because he did so. And the blessing he received in offering thanks was even greater than the blessing he received when he was healed. He returned to give thanks, and Jesus said to him: “Go on your way; your faith has made you well.”

It doesn’t sound like much of a blessing, but what Jesus said was of great significance. “Go on your way.” This Samaritan leper hadn’t been on his “way” in years. As a leper, he was an outcast. As a Samaritan, he was an outcast. He lived, as all lepers did, outside the city. Social contacts were few and far between. It was a life of isolation. Being a Samaritan only added to this.

“Go on your way.” His life had been at a stop. What was there to live for? But now, after all those years, he was once again on his way.

When you read the stories of Jesus, watch for that word, “way.” It is a very significant word. After the crucifixion and resurrection, the followers of Jesus were called followers of the way. As baptized Christians, we ourselves follow the way of Jesus.

“Go on your way.” What a blessing—and it arose out of the Samaritan’s gratitude and thanksgiving.

Jesus also said, “your faith has made you well.” The Greek word for “well” is “sozo.” You may remember me mentioning that to you before.

The word sozo is a very deep, meaningful, and powerful word. To experience sozo is to experience wellness. To experience sozo is to experience salvation. To experience sozo is to experience wholeness. (That’s a word we’ve heard before, isn’t it?)

To experience sozo is to live an abundant life, a life of fullness. Jesus came so that people might have life, and have it abundantly. In other words, he came to give them wholeness. He came to give sozo. The Samaritan received sozo when he returned to give thanks.

This suggests to me that the act of giving thanks is, itself, a very powerful act. It also seems to me that the act of giving thanks does not have to be accompanied by guilt or other conflicted feelings regarding those who are less fortunate. There is a time for giving thanks, and there is a time for helping others. Both are important. But giving thanks can, and possibly should, be just that: giving thanks. If you are working on behalf of the less fortunate, if you are following the way of Jesus in your life, then you don’t have to feel guilty when you give thanks.

I am thankful for the ministry that we share here at Bixby Knolls Christian Church. I want you to know that. I am so thankful for the love that is shown here, and the way you all support one another and pray for one another. A lot of that support that you show is done behind the scenes, I know; and I know that I’m not even aware of everything that goes on. But still, I am thankful.

I am thankful for the way the members of this congregation accept and affirm one another. We are an incredibly diverse congregation. We are diverse politically, racially, economically, and “generationally.” This could be an obstacle to ministry. It is, in fact, sometimes a challenge. But more often, it is a blessing.

I am thankful, because of all the congregation’s I’ve been a part of, I feel called to be a part of this one more than I ever have. And by that I mean that I feel called to give, not just as a pastor, but as a member of this church. Sometimes it is necessary for me to think of church as “job” and “work,” but more than any other congregation I’ve been a part of, I feel called to go beyond “job” and “work” in how I involve myself.

It feels good to be part of this congregation, because this congregation is so good at the ministry it does. You all are a generous people, and you know the joy and the blessing that comes from being generous and grateful. There should be no feelings of guilt associated with what I’m saying: You are a generous people, and I am thankful for the ministry that we share.

I know I didn’t really get around to talking about what the sermon title suggests I should be talking about. That’s OK. I think this scripture appears again in the lectionary next October. Maybe I’ll talk about it then. I just wanted to let you know how good it is to be here, how blessed we are by God, and how thankful I am for that.