The One Who Makes Us Whole

The area between Samaria and Galilee may have been barren (like this wilderness above), but it was a rich setting for healing!

 

Jeremiah 29:1, 4-7
Psalm 66:1-11
2 Timothy 2:8-15
Luke 17:11-19

 

The Rev. Seth Olson © 2022

 

Most gracious God, giver of all that was and is and will be, let my words be your words, and when my words are not your words, let your people be wise enough to know the same. Amen.

Have you ever been in an in-between space? Maybe you were driving through suburban Birmingham wondering “Am I in Vestavia Hills, Hoover, or unincorporated Jefferson County right now?” Or perhaps it was a larger cultural barrier, like near an international boarder. This happened to me this summer when I traveled to Buffalo, New York.

Up in Western New York, I saw no Starbucks in sight, the only coffee shop was a Tim Horton’s, which is a famous Canadian franchise. On this trip, I realized the citizens of Buffalo love their American football playing Bills, but they also love their Sabres and the Canadian pastime of hockey in general. Being up there around so many polite Northerners—something I was not expecting—helped me to see, there is a culture somewhere between Canadian and American.

Even more disorienting than this liminal space up North are the disorienting borderlands we encounter in our day-to-day lives (not when driving through Jefferson County, but when going through life). Moments when we step into a place that is neither one way nor another, but still both at the same time, and a third way altogether. These neither/nor-both/and settings can be quite disorienting AND they provide us with a rich and challenging way of seeing life in a different way.

In today’s Gospel lesson, we are in such a setting. We find ourselves in the land between Samaria and Galilee—making the setting a borderland. We might quickly pass over this detail; however, the location shapes this entire story and provides us with another way of seeing reality. We will get to this other way of perceiving, but let’s first explore this land between Samaria and Galilee and this story of Jesus and the ten lepers.

Charles Youngson recently told me that the place between Samaria or Galilee is barren. In Jesus’ day there was not much there. It’s on the way somewhere, but it wasn’t a destination. In this in-between area resided 10 lepers. These 10 lepers lived here because they could not live in Galilee where purity laws would have prevented them from taking part in communal life. The Samaritans likewise did not want them, thus they all traveled outside their native territories to reside in this outsider space. Then, along came Jesus.

Approaching Jesus, the ten lepers respectfully kept their distance. This is a case of social distancing modeled for us in Holy Scripture. As the lepers politely stayed over six feet away, they cried out, “Jesus, master, have mercy on us!” Even in these few words, the lepers conferred much upon Jesus by, but it’s not clear in our translation.

In our version they called Jesus, “Master.” However, the more accurate translation here is “Doctor!” The lepers saw Jesus as powerful yes, but more like the Great Physician from whom all healing comes, not as a divine ruler who controls all things. This correct identification of Jesus was followed by the lepers asking Jesus to show mercy (one of God’s chief characteristics). Jesus obliged!

And yet, we do not hear Jesus saying something like, “You are made well by the power of God!” Instead, his invitation for healing was outsourced to the priests. Why? Because priests are awesome! Right?! No, this was because in those days, the pathway to someone being pronounced well, was not conducted by physicians who would provide a doctor’s notes, but by religious leaders who would ritualistically restore impure individuals. Therefore, the one-time-lepers were only fully returned to their community when they went before the priests for ritual reinstation. After Jesus’ instruction, all the lepers at first followed the advice to go see the priests, and on their way, they were made well.

Let’s pause a minute to learn more fully about the disease which caused so much pain for these ten souls. According to the American Academy of Dermatology Association, leprosy still exists. You can get leprosy from armadillos. Thank you for not bringing any to the pet blessing on Wednesday night. You can also catch it from being around someone with leprosy for months. Happily, there is a cure of antibiotics that kills the bacteria which causes leprosy. Sadly, even with modern medicine damage done by leprosy, such as loss of feeling or blindness cannot be reversed.[1]

No longer having a disorder, which causes skin irritation, joint swelling, potential blindness, and other disabilities, whether long ago or today would be thrilling! Having pain subside stands out as monumental—life changing even! So, when this happened to nine of the ten lepers, they were presumably so fixated upon returning to fullness of life—to being restored in community that they went straightaway to find a priest.

As this story was happening in the liminal borderland, away from the normal boundaries of Jewish society, the former-lepers would have had to go back into Galilee or to Jerusalem to find the priest who presumably kicked them out of society in the first place. I do not know about you, but this would stress me out. It’s akin to combining a doctor’s appointment and an individual confession. I would want to get that out of the way as soon as possible. I cannot blame the nine lepers for wanting to get on with their lives.

Jesus though was critical of these ones who did not turn around. Why? Because the religious structure of that day was obsessed with rule following and ritual purity. Who could and could not be inside the synagogue or Temple was based on an intricate set of rules that had to be followed by all and was adjudicated by the religious leaders.

When Jesus was infuriated by the nine lepers who did not turn around and practice gratitude even though Jesus was the one who told them to go find a priest, we could easily think this was an attack on those who do not ever say thank you, but that’s not it! This was not about a personalized problem of nine souls not being thankful. It was not simply about personal healing or salvation, rather it was about both personal and systemic restoration—it was about the person and the larger community.

The one leper who turned around and gave thanks to Jesus was not a practicing Jew. Instead, he was a Samaritan, a foreigner. The literal translation from Greek is “other-generated” or “stranger.” This outsider did not have the same set of perimeters that the nine others did. They had to go and be pronounced clean if they wanted to return to normal social order. This Samaritan seemingly did not. He was free to express his appreciation in a completely authentic way.

So, that’s what the Samaritan did. He paid attention to what was happening. He saw that he was healed. He recognized the source of his healing was this merciful doctor named Jesus. So, observing the origins of his wellness, the Samaritan turned around and praised God with a loud voice. He laid face down at Jesus’ feet, and he thanked him.

Jesus immediately noticed this strange happenstance. Nine other one-time-lepers set off toward ritual clearance from the clergy, while this stranger outside of Jesus’ religious tradition turned around to practice gratitude. After commenting on the unusual nature of this situation, Jesus bent down to the prostrating man. “Get up and go on your way,” Jesus said, “Your faith has made you well.”

The Samaritan’s belief made him well—his trusting God through Jesus was the way to healing. The original language states it even more powerfully, “your trusting has made you whole.” In other words, the other nine needed a religious system to integrate them back into society. This Samaritan trusted Jesus such that his believing and gratitude restored him to wholeness.

This is the way Jesus invites us to walk too: Neither sulking in whatever dis-ease from which we are suffering, nor thinking that following a precise set of rules makes us whole, but instead seeing that even in the challenges and hardships of life Jesus walks with us on the way of ultimate healing. And our fitting response is gratitude!

The upcoming shape of our service follows a similar path! We seek wholeness, restoration, and integration in the Confession, Peace, and Great Thanksgiving. In the Confession we admit all the ways in which we are suffering and even how we, like the lepers, are isolated from our larger community. Charles (or I) will pronounce an absolution, a cleansing. It’s not ours (the priest’s) though. We re-present God in Christ—together we are restored, made whole, and integrated into the Body of Christ.

From that moment of forgiveness, we are swept up in the Peace of God. This peace, which passes all understanding, must be like the experience that the Samaritan leper felt upon seeing his skin healed and feeling his pain subsided. Soon enough we will find ourselves transported, as we gather around God’s Table to give thanksgiving.

In the Great Thanksgiving we, like the lone leper long ago, offer our gratitude for all that God has done. We do this by celebrating a feast that occupies a wild, liminal space and time. This gathering is both ancient and not yet fully realized—already, but not yet—proleptic is a good word for it. When we come to God’s Table it is not past, present, or future, but all three at the same time. In this both/and time and space, in this third way, we place bread and wine on the table AND we put symbols of our lives up there too.

Like the bread, our lives are blessed, broken, and given back to us transformed—not always how we want them to be handed back to us, not always shiny and new, but healed, resurrected lives nonetheless.

How will our lives be transformed? Well, how was the Samaritan leper’s life changed?

As we encounter Christ in the liminal spaces of our lives, God will heal our brokenness if we but cry out. When God does provide restoration, our giving thanks is a fitting blessing in response. As we celebrate the already-and-not-yet feast of the Holy Eucharist, we follow the Samaritan leper’s pattern. May we give thanks to our merciful doctor, the one who makes us whole, and may we follow in the transforming, resurrecting way of Christ now and always.

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[1] “Leprosy still occurs in the United States: Are you at risk?” from the American Academy of Dermatology Association website www.aad.org, [https://www.aad.org/public/diseases/a-z/leprosy-risk, accessed October 6, 2022].

What About Demons?

After a certain number of days in class we could not collectively wait any longer. We had to ask our liturgy professor about “the page.” Of course, I am referring to the one page within the Book of Occasional Services that mentions exorcism. Exorcism is the practice of removing a demon from a person, place, or thing. When my seminary classmates and I stopped clamoring long enough for our professor to talk I remember thinking, “That’s it?”

At least where I went to seminary they did not teach me how to cast out those dark forces. The page in the book only refers to seeking consultation from your bishop. Some dioceses may have someone who openly speaks of her ability to help people overcome demonic forces, but I don’t know who that person is in our diocese. So what is the deal with demons? Is it just mental illness shrouded in old language or are there really forces controlled by Satan? What are demons anyway? To understand our current beliefs about demons we would do well to go back to Jesus’ own day.

Throughout the gospel accounts demons get portrayed in a fairly uniform way. According to The New Oxford Annotated Bible, “Demons were thought of as nonmaterial existences of a personal kind, hostile to human welfare and rebellious against God.”[1] Huh? Demons were thought not to have bodies, but they had personalities. They were mean to people, and they did not like God. What is more humans during this period of the New Testament did not know what to do in the face of demons. Jesus on the other hand did.

Using today’s Gospel lesson as an example, we discover that Jesus not only had power over demons, but seemingly he had a pre-existing relationship with them as a whole. Jesus who was teaching on the Sabbath—a big no-no!—astounded those in this Gentile territory with his authoritative teaching. In the midst of the lesson an unclean demon who was possessing a man came forth. Oddly, as the demon came in he made it known that he did not want Jesus to do anything to him, crying out, “Let us alone! What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth?” If the demon had said nothing, would it not have been able to remain? We will return to this in a moment. For now notice that this demon knew who Jesus was, but there is even more.

The demons did not only notice Jesus, but they understood his identity far more easily than human beings did. In this encounter the demon says to Jesus, “I know who you are, the Holy One of God.” This strange nonmaterial entity got who Jesus was before the disciples had made their own messianic proclamation. Those around this encounter though did not get the full message. Instead they were just impressed with Jesus’ ability to cast out this force that usually leaves both victim and healer helpless.

Not only could Jesus communicate with these demonic forces he had control over them. As he cast out this demon he left the man whom the demon had possessed unharmed. The response from the people was not to fully understand who Jesus was—at least not at the time. Instead, they were just amazed at what had happened. Of course, this is a great first step in following Jesus—being amazed by him—still the trouble that arises as Jesus performs these healings happens when people merely expect a transactional relationship with this man from Nazareth. Heal this person and I will be impressed. So where does this leave us?

Let me return to the thought of a silent demon. In our current context as 21^st Century Episcopalians leaving in a globalized world with advances in medicine, technology, education, entertainment, and so many other fields we may think this demon story is just a silly tale. However, what is to say that we do not all have immaterial personalized forces that could wreak havoc upon us? If put under enough stress I believe we may all face strange temptations presented to us by creatures that our conscious mind and our rational brain cannot understand. So many times though the demons we face now are silent. Perhaps said more fittingly, we all face challenges of sin that we cannot blame upon some personalized force, some demon or another.

If we all have the potential of facing demons or at least the real challenge of removing those things that distort our relationships with God and neighbor, what do we do? Well, I am not sure I have the perfect answer for this question. However, as I think of our current understanding of demons, I think we are called to actually do something that the demonic force from today’s lesson did. We are called to recognize Jesus as the Holy One. Whatever forces that we feel like are overwhelming us—whether it is deep seeded emotions, past traumatic experiences, current challenges, or anything else—we will face them more boldly with the help of the Holy One of God. This does not mean these problems will disappear, but we will not face them alone.

I still am not sure what the appropriate response to demons is. Nor, am I even sure what demons are. However, I know that we are called to respond to those challenges—as well as the joys—of life by daily asking Jesus to walk with us. God has authority to do all things—that is to say through God all things are possible. How will you rely upon God today?

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[1] Soards, Marion L. "Luke." In The New Oxford Annotated Bible: New Revised Standard Version 4th Edition, 1837. New York: Oxford University Press, 2010.

Triangles

I have a few friends who are teachers. They inspire me in many ways. For nine months out of the year they work longer hours than many, for less pay than most, and without the resources they desire or deserve. Yes, there is the joy felt during summer and winter breaks, but educators have to deal with a lot when school is in session. Perhaps the thing that most terrified me and kept me from wanting to be a teacher was the trend of helicopter parents.

If you blinked or did not pay attention during today’s Gospel lesson you might have missed the matron saint of helicopter parents, the mother of the sons of Zebedee. Mrs. Z--let's call her--did her very best to swoop in to ensure that her little babies James and John were going to get the very best that they deserved. In the process she created quite a tense situation between the other disciples and these two brothers. Additionally, she did her very best to make things awkward for Jesus himself.

Not to get too complicated or focused on jargon, but this is a classic case of what is therapeutically called “triangulation.” Now triangulation is when an issue or person, which is referred to as an identified patient creates anxiety or stress such that people who are usually on the same side end up on different points on a triangle with the patient in between. A common example is when a child asks mom to go to the movies and when she says no the child heads over to dad to see if he is on the same team as mom or is he the weak link?

Jesus’ response in today’s Gospel perfectly exemplifies how we might go about challenging these tricky triangulating moments in our own lives. Notice what happens in the story. Mrs. Z approaches Jesus with a request, like any good helicopter parent. She asks that her two sons get the places of honor in his kingdom, just like a mom might try to get her son’s C plus bumped up to a B minus. Jesus does not let this issue come between his disciples and himself. In fact, he does not reply to the mother, but instead he speaks directly to the sons breaking the triangle altogether. As the disciples proclaim that they can drink the cup that Jesus will drink, the triangulation shifts.

On one side of this quarrel are James and John and on the other are the rest of the disciples with Jesus’ decision causing a rift in this movement. Instead of letting it fester even for a moment, Jesus masterfully turns their conversation on its head to ensure that his followers understand what greatness truly looks like. He cuts through the triangle to be in relationship with all. Jesus wants this type of relationship with us too.

Lent is the perfect time to examine our own relationships with others. Are we loving things and using people, instead of the other way around? Are we coveting what others have and allowing that anxiety to create distance between our neighbors and us? Do we allow lust to creep into our hearts such that we distort how we see spouse, friend, or neighbor? Is it possible that a difference of opinion has sprouted into anger such that we can no longer be in relationship with someone else? All of these triangles can so easily exist in our lives. Jesus, though bids us to cut through these disconnections.

It will not be so with you. Do not allow greed, anger, lust, or other sins to build walls between us. Instead, look for ways to serve others. For when we lay down our lives for others something powerful happens. Chiefly it puts us in contact with the full life that Christ yearns for us to also live, but practically speaking when we serve others, when we become vulnerable something transformative happens. When one voluntarily gives away one’s power to serve another the relationship between the two changes. It is much harder to be mad at someone who humbly serves.

When you feel like you are being surrounded by helicopter parents, overly-involved citizens, and those who are obsessed with greed, lust, anger, or some other sin, seek ways to serve that person. It is not easy, but it will break the triangles that exist. And, more importantly it will fill you with the love of Christ and help others to know the Good News of Jesus all the more!

No Other

Ken Robinson in his inspirational TED talk about education spoke of the importance of giving people the opportunity to be creative not only when they are young, but throughout their formal education and beyond. Our education system currently teaches creative thinking out of pupils as they must learn for a test and not for real world problems. As art classes, bands, choirs, drama, and sports diminish children lose more and more chances to learn to think and be creative. Adult life is no better.

While modern employers seek to provide some new ways to work, how often are recess or art breaks part of work? Still, within every one of us resides a creative force that connects us to our Divine Creator. Do you remember a time when you were young and creative? Or, perhaps are you still young or at least young at heart? 

By the grace of God I have never completely jettisoned my inner child. One may joke about how many stories I remember from my childhood, but those foundational tales continue to impact me today. One such tale still lives vividly within my soul.

I have said in previous sermons that I had many imaginary friends growing up—not just one, but many! We would play and run around and go on adventures wherever we were. Quite often this benefited my parents who did not have to entertain me. However, there was one time every week when I had to use my creative powers in a more confined way. 

One evening a week I had to go with my mom to pick up my sister from dance rehearsal. When it was too dark I had to sit in the car and entertain myself. However, over the course of time my mom and I developed a game that still makes me laugh. My sister’s dance studio was on a busy street, so many people walked by on their way to other stores or restaurants. As people walked by my mom would ask, “Is that your sister?” For example, a 50 year-old-man with a mustache strolled by and my mom said, “Is that your sister?” The same with a mother pushing a baby stroller or a kid on a skateboard. Each time I would erupt in laughter. I found this creative game so funny because I knew these people were not my sister, until finally it was my sister walking to the car. 

What happens though when we are looking for God? When we seek out the Messiah? In both the passage from Isaiah and our Gospel lesson from Luke these questions of God’s identity hover over the text. There is only one God. God is the one who creates all: light and dark, weal and woe. God says I am the one and there is no other god. Whereas I had a really easy time as a kid spotting which person was my sister walking up to me, I believe we continually struggle with identifying that there is only one God!

Often we try to make God into our little deity who shows up for our group of people and so conveniently leaves out those whom we do not like or who see God differently than we do. As we look at Luke’s story of John’s disciples going to see if Jesus was the Messiah—recall we heard Matthew’s version this past Sunday—we discover that John the Baptist is wondering about the identity of God. In particular, John wants to know is this the Messiah who came to show the world the way back to God?

The response sounds almost identical in Luke as it does in Matthew: “The blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, the poor have good news brought to them.” Jesus’ answer does not directly respond with a yes. Instead, he points a finger to the examples that correspond with how the people of Israel have been expecting to see God’s coming. The wild thing is that this is still how we see God coming into this world.

I think I need to resurrect that old game I used to play while waiting for my sister, but this time I am going to wonder, “Is that God coming?” Regardless of where someone was born, where they live, or what religion they practice if they take part in creativity within this world, if they take part in the healing of this world, if they are uniting “individual” parts of this world then they are from God, the one God. For there is one Lord, and there is no other; besides God there is no god.