Proper 23C. 9 October 2022. The Very Rev. Pamela L. Werntz
Jeremiah 29:1, 4-7. Seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.
2 Timothy 2:8-15. The word of God is not chained.
Luke 17:11-19. Jesus asked, “Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they?”
O God of sacred story, grant us the strength, the wisdom and the courage to seek always and everywhere after truth, come when it may, and cost what it will.
This morning at Emmanuel Church we are giving thanks for the life and love of Joan Nordell, who was the President of the Board of Emmanuel Music when I arrived at Emmanuel almost 15 years ago. Her steady and generous leadership made a world of difference during a time of instability and uncertainty. Her commitment to Emmanuel Church was remarkable and continued to grow even after she completed her service on the board. I hope my sermon would delight her, because it’s inspired by her. I should let you know that this sermon is going to include a list-making exercise. I want you to have a pen ready or take notes on your phone. (Yes, I’m a priest who tells people to use their phones during the liturgy.) Or you could just make a mental list when the time comes.
Before the list-making I want to offer some commentary on the readings from our First and Second Testaments. Since some of you may be in a similar situation, I want to highlight God’s surprising instructions through the prophecy of Jeremiah to people who were in exile, far from home, captives in Babylon. Jeremiah wrote the Word of God in a letter to them and said: “Plant gardens. Build dwelling places. Seek the welfare of the city where you are, for in its welfare, you will find your welfare.” The Hebrew word for welfare is shalom. The same word in Arabic, salaam, forms the word Islam. Islam is often translated submission, and that is also an essential part of shalom; submission is obedience, which is radical listening; radical listening is what God, also known as Love, commands above all else. Listening to love, submitting to love, and well-being are all one. Seek wellbeing in the new and difficult place to which you have arrived against your will. God’s blessing continues even in exile. Contribute to the welfare of the city wherever you are. Be a blessing where you are, even if you are a captive of circumstances beyond your control.
The writer of Second Timothy encourages the community to remember Jesus Christ, but I want to tell you that the verb translated remember is ongoing action: keep remembering Jesus Christ. Keep remembering every day, you who are members of the body, keep re-asserting your belonging to the ones who announce good tidings to those who are destitute, who proclaim release to captives and sight to those who cannot see, who send those who are oppressed forth in liberty, and proclaim the year of amnesty. Keep remembering that this is now our mission and keep reminding others that they are workers who have no need to be ashamed when they are rightly explaining a word of truth, that is, a word of right-relationship with God and one another.
About those ten lepers, who yelled out to Jesus to have mercy on them: Jesus told them to go and show themselves to the priests. He didn’t say, “Okay, I do have mercy.” He didn’t say, “Great is your faith” or “Not my job,” but he also didn’t touch them; there’s nothing to suggest that he even got near them. They kept their distance; they shouted out asking for mercy. He replied, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.”
Who knows why they went? Perhaps it took immense courage and trust to set off down that road to show themselves to the priests. My guess is that maybe they believed that the priests would have mercy on them; and besides, they probably had nothing left to lose. The story goes that, “As they went, they were made clean.” So not while they were talking with Jesus, but after they had left Jesus, along their journey, on their way to show themselves to the priests, they realized that they had been healed, before they’d even reached their destination. They’d been asking for, praying for, mercy; and they got something so much better! By law, the priests, of course, would still have to declare that they were healed; or it wouldn’t count. So presumably, they continued on their way and simply did what Jesus had told them to do.
Well nine of them did, anyway. One turned back to thank Jesus and praise God. One did not go his own way; and Jesus asked where the other nine were?? Did he not tell them to go and show themselves to the priest? That’s where they were. And after that, I imagine they were running all over the place, getting re-acquainted with their families and friends, re-integrated into the life of the community from which they’d been quarantined. I think that it’s reasonable to imagine that the nine didn’t attribute the healing to Jesus; so it might not have even occurred to them to come back and thank him. I don’t think, therefore, that anyone should be particularly critical of those nine. The lepers weren’t even asking for healing; they were asking for mercy. They all received healing. The one who turned back to give thanks to Jesus was a Samaritan, a foreigner, a stranger.
I believe that each and every one of us has at least ten healed lepers inside of us. That is, we have had at least ten unwell parts of ourselves (physical, emotional, or spiritual), which have made us (and maybe others) feel disgust and fear, have made us feel shame, and have isolated us from fullness of life in relationship with the community. Along the way, along our various ways, healings have taken place. (Of course, we all have parts that are still in need of healing as I speak; but for right now, I’d like to focus on those experiences of healing that we’ve already had in our past.) I am confident that with a little time and thought, every single person in this room could list 1ten times they have experienced healing along the way, whether from illness or infirmity, a disease or a disaster, hurt fingers or hurt feelings, a broken bone, a broken relationship, or a broken heart.
I wonder if you would take a couple of minutes right now and make a list of ten physical, emotional, or spiritual illnesses or injuries from which you have recovered or are in active recovery. Maybe you know how you healed, and maybe you just know that you healed but you don’t know how. You could write them in the bottom margin of Page 7 of your bulletin or make a list on your phone. If you can’t or don’t want to write them down, count on your fingers ten healings you’ve experienced along your way. I’m going to stop talking for a minute so you can think of them. We have also experienced healings as a community, as a parish. Physical, emotional, spiritual injuries and illnesses of this parish have been healed along our way. If you’ve been around a while, I’m sure you could come up with ten examples. You could write those down later for extra credit!
As we went along our way, wishing for mercy, perhaps pleading for mercy, healings took place. Now I know that this is a leap to a place where some people will not wish to stay; but just for a moment, I want you to use your imagination to jump. I would like you to imagine just for a moment that every one of those healings was from Love, which is another word for God. Every one of those healings was a movement toward greater fullness of life. Could we choose one of the ten healed lepers in us to turn back, and praise God by giving thanks to Jesus for the healing? I know it sounds suspiciously evangelical, doesn’t it? Imagine giving thanks for what Love has done for just one in ten healings. That’s proportional giving, proportional thanksgiving.
What I’m suggesting is that we understand that all the healings, the blessings, we’ve received are from God, and that we offer a portion back in thanksgiving, one that will not go on our own way toward our own work or pleasure, our own self-satisfaction, but will turn back to Jesus for God’s way, God’s work, and God’s pleasure. I want to point something out that strikes me; and, maybe it will strike you, too. Whenever I first hear this story that only one in ten turned back to give thanks, I have to admit, that doesn’t seem like very much. When I offer back to God one-tenth of the material blessings I have received, (I have to admit) it seems like a lot, maybe even too much; but it’s exactly the same proportion.
If you have been a part of an Episcopal Church community for a while, you might know that every autumn is a time to begin or renew our commitment to stewardship. We are beginning our season of making pledges of gifts to Emmanuel Church for its ministries in the coming calendar year for the welfare of our community, our city, and our souls, for remembering Jesus Christ, and for giving thanks.
I invite you to spend some time over the next few weeks reflecting on proportions of thanksgiving or gratitude, because I am asking you, urging you, to join me in designating a portion of all that you receive for the kindness and healing that happen through and because of this particular place, this community. Our commitments to clergy, staff, and ministry next year will come entirely from the gifts of thanksgiving and gratitude that you and I and others pledge to make for the coming year. For those of you who are new to this, pledges would usually be made in 2022 and fulfilled in 2023. The right amount to pledge is an amount that is meaningful to you. Your pledges help us plant gardens, build dwelling places, and contribute to the welfare of the city. We keep remembering Jesus Christ and keep reminding others that this is our calling.
I want to invite you to consider all the blessings that you have received along your way and to be bold and generous in returning a portion of those blessings, in a way that will make a difference in the way you live your life going forward, because it will make a big difference at and through Emmanuel. A portion that is meaningful to you will be meaningful to Emmanuel, no matter what its size. I want to urge you to rediscover this sacred story in order to rediscover your own personal and our communal story, and to understand more and more our stories through Love’s Story.