Thursday, January 7, 2010

Final Sermon

Not a lot of changes from the draft, but here's the final version.



Ten lepers. Today’s Gospel reading is traditionally called by the unimaginative title “The Healing of Ten Lepers.” If you’re like me, your first question might be “Um, what is a leper, anyway?” It may be difficult for us to identify with or even understand the plight of these ten lowly lepers. You see, they suffered from a skin disease—perhaps what today we would call psoriasis or eczema—but more importantly, they suffered from ritual impurity. Because of their condition, they were excluded from society, forced out of their very homes. It's described in Leviticus: “The person who has the leprous disease shall wear torn clothes and let the hair of his head be disheveled; and he shall cover his upper lip and cry out, ‘Unclean, unclean.’ He shall remain unclean as long as he has the disease; he is unclean. He shall live alone; his dwelling shall be outside the camp.” This treatment may seem cruel to us, and perhaps it was, but we must understand that the ancient people of Israel were very concerned with ritual purity and impurity—what they called tahor and tamei. Most things were tahor, pure, but certain situations or conditions, like these skin diseases, made a person tamei, impure. Impurity was contagious; one impure person could transfer impurity to another person, object, or place. Impurity could even infect the Temple, where the people of Israel encountered God. For impurity to come to the very dwelling of God was the most feared possibility. As a result, these ten lepers were dangerous outcasts, kept at a distance, kept away from the rest of society. A normal life was impossible for them.

When Jesus comes to town, these lepers come out looking for him. Still, they stay at a distance, as they were required to do. They would not dare to infect Jesus with their ritual impurity. But they raise their voices, shouting and begging for mercy. I wonder if these ten even really knew what they were seeking. They do not ask to be cleansed; perhaps they believed it to be impossible. Perhaps they were just begging for a meal. I can't imagine any of them expected what Jesus says in response, however. Jesus does not heal them, does not feed them, does not teach them. He tells them to go to the priests. To understand why, we must turn again to Leviticus: the law details that, if a person recovered from their skin disease, that person must go to a priest. The priest examines him to make sure he is no longer ill. Then the priest performs a ritual that removes the uncleanliness, makes the person pure again.

What is odd, even shocking, about Jesus' instruction is that these ten lepers, when they set off to see the priests, are not clean. The outcome is easy to anticipate: if the lepers go to the priests, the priests recognize that the disease remains, and nothing changes. The ten would remain on the outside. So why bother going at all? Yet these ten lepers immediately set out, following Jesus' instructions. It is then, after they have left, that they are cleansed.

At this point, the focus of the story shifts. This, we discover, is more than just a healing story. You see, up until now, we have been hearing about ten lepers. As far as the story is concerned, we have ten identical men in an identical situation, given identical instructions, and granted identical (though certainly miraculous) healing. Now, the group splits; nine former lepers continue on to see the priests. No doubt they were declared clean and were able to rejoin society. They could go back to their homes. Jesus freed them from their condition. Jesus broke down the barrier that kept them on the outside. Jesus gave them the gift of a normal life again.

But one of the ten reacts differently. This one man actually does the opposite of what Jesus commanded. He turns around and goes back the way he had come, back to Jesus. And he does two other things: he praises God and he thanks Jesus. It is important that these actions go together. Jesus himself makes note of it: “ But the other nine, where are they? Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” No doubt the other nine men, miraculously restored, praised God as well; but only this one combines praise of God with thankfulness to Jesus. One commentator writes, “I would think that it was highly possible that the other nine... attributed their healings to God. However, they didn't make the connection between God and Jesus of Nazareth. The nine may have been praising God during their whole journey to the temple. The one saw what could only be seen through the eyes of faith—the human Jesus is the power of God. Later, we will be asked to see and believe that the dying Jesus is the power of God.”

It is this clarity of vision that makes the one stand out. It is this clarity of vision that Jesus praises when he says, “Your faith has made you well”—literally, “Your faith has saved you.” All ten were healed, but the faith of the one leads to something far greater. To see the power of God in a lowly human being is truly remarkable. To see the power of God in a crucified Jesus is both foolish and faithful.



Ten lepers are the characters in today’s Gospel story. We are so remote from their context; can we truly imagine ourselves in their shoes? Our culture is not concerned with ritual purity. We are not forced out of our homes, forced to the very edges of society, by our religion. So often, we feel that we do not need to cry out to Jesus for mercy. We’re doing pretty well for ourselves—certainly better than this bunch of lepers, anyway.

Yet perfection is just as unattainable for us as tahor, purity, was for the ten lepers. They sat outside the town, helpless, hopeless. We rush from goal to goal, trying to be good enough... helpless. Hopeless. The truth is, we cannot save ourselves. The good news—the Good News, proclaimed in Luke and the other Gospels—is that we have already been saved. We are in the position of those ten lepers, standing on the road, realizing that they have been healed. We have already been saved by Jesus Christ. The question is, how will we respond?



When I was in college, we would periodically have community meals—for Thanksgiving, for example. All the students were allowed to attend these dinners, regardless of their meal plan. So we all received the benefit of a free meal, one that was nicer than the usual cafeteria fare. But very few of my classmates ever thanked the hosts of these meals. I think they were grateful, but it never occurred to them to go out of their way to express their thankfulness to those who had benefitted them.

Of course, this example pales in comparison to what Jesus has done for us. And giving thanks to the people who made you dinner is very different from giving thanks to Jesus. When that one ex-leper goes back to Jesus, he’s not just being polite. He falls at Jesus’ feet. He is making himself a follower, a disciple of Jesus. To give thanks in this way is far more significant that simply saying “thank you”. Still, most of my college classmates were like the nine lepers, never turning back to give thanks.

So which are you?—one of the nine, or the one who went back? We cannot avoid having our lives transformed by Jesus Christ. God will change us, cleanse us, transform us, just as all ten of those lepers were transformed. It is not optional. But what will happen when you realize that you have been transformed? Will you go on with your life, be a productive member of society, rejoin the ranks of the “normal”? Nothing wrong with that. But would you dare to turn back, to ask yourself, “Who do I have to thank for this new life I’ve received?” Would you dare to see the power of God in a lowly Galilean? Would you dare to see a savior in the cross?

May we all dare to turn back, to fall at Jesus’ feet, giving thanks and praise. May we all dare to be something much more than “normal”—disciples. Amen.

For the future?

So, my sermon is done (I'm preaching in about 25 minutes), and the class will be over this time tomorrow. The question is, what to do with the blog after that? I've found this method of sermon preparation very helpful. I would love to continue it during internship.

So here's my idea, for my fellow middlers: if there's a small group (five, or maybe six) who want to keep doing this blog loop for sermon preparation, let's do it! We can follow one another's blogs and plan to support one another as we prepare sermons this spring and (especially) during internship.

What do you say?

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Sermon Draft

Luke 17:11-19
On the way to Jerusalem Jesus was going through the region between Samaria and Galilee. As he entered a village, ten lepers approached him. Keeping their distance, they called out, saying, "Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!" When he saw them, he said to them, "Go and show yourselves to the priests." And as they went, they were made clean. Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice. He prostrated himself at Jesus' feet and thanked him. And he was a Samaritan. Then Jesus asked, "Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they? Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?" Then he said to him, "Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well."


Ten lepers. It may be difficult for us to identify with or even understand the plight of these ten lowly lepers. They suffered from a skin disease - perhaps what today we would call psoriasis or eczema - but more importantly, they suffered from ritual impurity. Because of their condition, they were excluded from society, forced out of their very homes. It's described in Leviticus: "The person who has the leprous disease shall wear torn clothes and let the hair of his head be disheveled; and he shall cover his upper lip and cry out, 'Unclean, unclean.' He shall remain unclean as long as he has the disease; he is unclean. He shall live alone; his dwelling shall be outside the camp." This treatment may seem cruel to us, and perhaps it was, but we must understand that the ancient people of Israel were very concerned with ritual purity and impurity - what they called tahor and tamei. Most things were tahor, pure, but certain situations or conditions, like these skin diseases, made a person tamei, impure. Impurity was contagious; one impure person could make another person or place impure. Impurity could even infect the Temple, where the people of Israel encountered God. As a result, these ten lepers were dangerous outcasts, kept at a distance, kept away from the rest of society.

When Jesus comes to town, these lepers come out looking for him. Still, they stay at a distance, as they were required to do. They would not dare to infect Jesus with their ritual impurity. But they raise their voices, shouting and begging for mercy. I wonder if these ten even really knew what they were seeking. They do not ask to be cleansed; perhaps they believed it to be impossible. Perhaps they were just begging for a meal. I can't imagine any of them expected what Jesus says in response, however. Jesus does not heal them, does not feed them, does not teach them. He tells them to go to the priests. Here again, we must turn to Leviticus: the law details that, if a person recovered from one of these skin diseases, that person must go to a priest. The priest examines him to make sure he is no longer ill. Then the priest performs a ritual that removes the uncleanliness, makes the person tahor again.

What is odd about Jesus' instruction is that these ten lepers, when they set off to see the priests, are not clean. The outcome would be easy to anticipate: if the lepers go to the priests, the priests recognize that the disease remains, nothing changes. So why bother going at all? Yet these ten lepers immediately set out, following Jesus' instructions. It is then, after they have left, that they are cleansed.

At this point, the focus of the story shifts. This, we discover, is more than just a healing story. Because up until now, we have been hearing about ten lepers. As far as the story is concerned, we have ten identical men in an identical situation, given identical instructions, and granted identical (though certainly miraculous) healing. Now, the group breaks up; nine former lepers continue on to see the priests. No doubt they were declared clean and were able to rejoin society. They could go back to their homes. Jesus freed them from their condition. Jesus broke down the barrier that kept them on the outside.

But one of the ten reacts differently. This one man actually does the opposite of what Jesus commanded. He turns around and goes back the way he had come, back to Jesus. And he does two other things: he praises God and he thanks Jesus. It is important that these actions go together. Jesus himself makes note of it: “ But the other nine, where are they? Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” No doubt the other nine men, miraculously restored, praised God as well; but only this one combines praise of God with thankfulness to Jesus. One commentator writes, "I would think that it was highly possible that the other nine... attributed their healings to God. However, they didn't make the connection between God and Jesus of Nazareth. The nine may have been praising God during their whole journey to the temple. The one saw what could only be seen through the eyes of faith—the human Jesus is the power of God. Later, we will be asked to see and believe that the dying Jesus is the power of God."

It is this clarity of vision that makes the one stand out. It is this clarity of vision that Jesus praises when he says, "Your faith has made you well" - literally, "Your faith has saved you." All ten were healed, but the faith of the one leads to something far greater. To see the power of God in a lowly human being is truly remarkable. To see the power of God in a crucified Jesus is both foolish and faithful.

Ten lepers are the characters in today’s Gospel story. We are so remote from their context; can we truly imagine ourselves in their shoes? Our culture is not concerned with ritual purity. We are not forced out of our homes, forced to the very edges of society, by our religion. So often, we feel that we do not need to cry out to Jesus for mercy. We’re doing pretty well for ourselves—certainly better than this bunch of lepers, anyway.

Yet perfection is just as unattainable for us as tahor, purity, was for the ten lepers. They sat outside the town, helpless, hopeless. We rush from goal to goal, trying to be good enough... helpless. Hopeless. The truth is, we cannot save ourselves. The good news—the Good News, proclaimed in Luke and the other Gospels—is that we have already been saved. We are in the position of those ten lepers, standing on the road, realizing that they have been healed. We have already been saved by Jesus Christ. The question is, how will we respond?

When I was in college, we would periodically have community meals—for Thanksgiving, for example. All the students were allowed to attend these dinners, regardless of their meal plan. So we all received the benefit of a free meal, usually one that was nicer than the usual cafeteria fare. But very few of my classmates ever thanked the hosts of these meals. I think they were grateful, but it never occurred to them to go out of their way and express their thankfulness to those who had benefitted them.

Of course, this example pales in comparison to what Jesus has done for us. And giving thanks to the people who made you dinner is very different from giving thanks to Jesus. When that one ex-leper goes back to Jesus, he’s not just being polite. He falls at Jesus’ feet. He is making himself a follower, a disciple of Jesus. To give thanks in this way is far more significant that simply saying “thank you”. Still, most of my college classmates were like the nine lepers, never turning back to give thanks.

So which are you?—one of the nine, or the one who went back? We cannot avoid having our lives transformed by Jesus Christ. God will change us, cleanse us, transform us, just as all ten of those lepers were transformed. It is not optional. But what will happen when you realize that you have been transformed? Will you go on with your life, be a productive member of society, rejoin the ranks of the “normal”? Nothing wrong with that. But would you dare to turn back, to ask yourself, “Who do I have to thank for this new life I’ve received?” Would you dare to see the power of God in a lowly Galilean? Would you dare to see a savior in the cross?

Questions About Flickering Pixels

Here are a few questions about last night's reading - chapters 9-12 in Flickering Pixels.

In chapter 10, Hipps contrasts two cell phone commercials. The one with the father and daughter emphasizes how technology can bring us together, while the one with the wedding shows how technology can come between us and keep us apart. Do these two forces perfectly balance one another, or is technology better at one than the other?

Also in chapter 10, Hipps writes, "The human psyche isn't designed to withstand the full gravity of planetary suffering. Numbness and exhaustion are natural reactions. Feeling helpless and hopeless is nearly inevitable. The heart can only stretch so far so many times before it is worn thing and wrung dry." He argues that we should not always respond to where the need seems greatest - perhaps halfway across the world - but we must respond to the people who are near to us, whom we can actually see and touch. Otherwise we risk complete burnout and numbness. Do you agree? (As a side question, how would Hipps' claim about the limits of the human capacity to face suffering relate to our Christology and soteriology?)

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

A Tangent

My brother-in-law sent me this video, and I thought it had a lot to do with our discussion about technology and culture. It's actually about copyright law, but the first 15 minutes of the video are all about how the internet is allowing people today to reclaim culture, to interact and recreate culture in a way that was all but extinguished in the era of radio and television.

It's worth watching.

Sermon Outline

In sermon writing, I really struggle with outlining and organizing my sermon. The exegetical work I can do, and I can write the sermon once I know where I'm going, but I have a hard time structuring my ideas in a way that's clear and accessible. In other words, if you're reading this: help!

Here's my tentative outline, but it's open for changes.
  • Introduction: What is going on in this text? Who are the characters? What is at stake? This will include some brief historical information (like the significance of leprosy, the need to go to the priest, what is a Samaritan, etc.).
  • The one leper: What makes him extraordinary? What is Jesus' response to him?
  • *Central Point* Although all ten lepers were healed, Jesus praises the faith of the one leper who sees in Jesus what the others do not.
  • Application: How does this influence our understanding of discipleship today? In what way are we like the nine lepers, and how can we be like the one leper?
I don't know if I'm really happy with this. Any comments would be appreciated.

Sermon Preparation, Part Four: Nine Obedient Lepers and One Grateful Leper

I am reflecting on the distinction between the nine lepers and the one. They are all the same in their condition, their request for mercy, and their instructions from Jesus. However, the nine lepers do what Jesus says down to the letter. They go off to see the priests, are cleansed along the way, and (presumably) are declared clean and accepted back into society. The tenth leper is disobedient. He never goes to see a priest, it seems. He discovers he has been cleansed and turns around and goes back to Jesus. Whereas the other nine lepers are characterized by obedience, this last leper is characterized by thankfulness.

I was reading the exegetical commentary on CrossMarks, and it really struck me. Stoffregen writes,

Note v. 15 in our text. The one healed leper "praises (or glorifies) God with a loud voice." Tannehill (Luke) asks, "Why is it necessary to return and praise God?" [p. 257 emphasis in original]

That's a good question. Can't God be praised everywhere? Wouldn't the priest he was traveling to see be somewhere near a worship center? Wouldn't that be the place to praise God?

Tannehill gives his comments: "Presumably God could be praised elsewhere. Yet it is assumed in the story that praising God and thanking Jesus should go together." [p. 257-8]

The place to praise God is at the feet of Jesus. Faith, beyond being a response of thanksgiving, is seeing the connection between praising God and worshiping (illustrated by falling on one's face at his feet) and thanking Jesus. However, Luke may be telling us a bit more in v. 16. The word for "thanks" is eucharisteo. This word is used four times in Luke. Twice it is used of Jesus "giving thanks" over the cup and the bread in the upper room (22:17, 19). Although it might be exegetical stretch, we might connect praising God with participating in the "eucharist" -- an act of thanksgiving in the presence of Jesus.

Related to this, I would think that it was highly possible that the other nine may have attributed their healings to God. However, they didn't make the connection between God and Jesus of Nazareth. The nine may have been praising God during their whole journey to the temple. The one saw what could only be seen through the eyes of faith -- the human Jesus is the power of God. Later, we will be asked to see and believe that the dying Jesus is the power of God.


What makes the one leper stand out is that he connected his glorification of God with his gratitude to Jesus. By returning to Jesus, this one showed his faith, obstinate, disobedient faith. Jesus cleansed all ten (proof of grace!), but this one saw something in Jesus that the other nine did not. Jesus says, "Your faith has saved you." Regarding these words, Stoffregen quotes Green: "Here, something more than healing must be intended, since (1) the efficacy of faith is mentioned and (2) all ten lepers experienced cleansing. The Samaritan was not only cleansed, but on account of faith gained something more -- namely, insight into Jesus' role in the inbreaking kingdom. He is enabled to see and is thus enlightened, itself a metaphor for redemption."