The Key to Thankfulness

A popular passage of Scripture used in Thanksgiving Eve worship services across America tells the story of Jesus' encounter with ten lepers.

In those days and for many centuries afterward, lepers were forced to live in "colonies" apart from the rest of society. If, by some unexplained miracle or phenomenon, they experienced healing, they could be restored to society---to family, friends, and daily work. (Ironically, that list of family, friends, and daily work is among the things people most often name as reasons to be thankful on Thanksgiving Day.)

As Jesus approached a village, there were ten lepers who neared Him. "Keeping their distance," they cried to Jesus. His reputation as a healer had preceded Jesus. "Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!" Desperate for healing, they begged Him for help.

As was almost always the case, Jesus was calmly understated in His response. "Go and show yourselves to the priest," He said.

Regulations in the Old Testament's book of Leviticus, chapter 14, said that once lepers thought themselves healed, they needed to go to a priest in Jerusalem to have their restored condition officially certified. Jesus' simple directive to the lepers meant that they would soon be healed and could go back to the lives they so desperately missed.

Naturally, one would expect, in reading the unfolding of this incident, that it could be titled something like Ten Thankful People. But this is what we're told:

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. [Then comes the coup de grace.] And he was a Samaritan. [Samaritans were hated by Jesus' fellow Judeans, tagged with reputations as subhuman, irreligious, evil people.]

One person was thankful. Why is that?

I have a theory.

One of the two books which, apart from the Bible, has had the greatest impact on my life is Ole Hallesby's Prayer. (The other is C.S. Lewis' Mere Christianity.) Early in his book, Hallesby compares prayer to a common treatment for tuberculosis back in the 1930s, when he wrote. Patients would be placed in the warmth and glow of the sun. Nothing doctors or medical personnel did seemed to matter much, beyond giving comfort. But passive exposure to the rays of the sun had restorative power. Prayer, Hallesby says, is like that: It's placing ourselves under the power of the God we know through His Son, Jesus.

But, Hallesby says, in order for us to come to the Son or to experience the healing and restoration God makes possible, genuine prayer must include two things:

• Desperation
• Trust in God

Clearly, the ten lepers met those conditions. And time and again in my years as a Jesus-Follower, I have seen God's positive response to my prayers and those of others when those conditions were present.

But here's the difference between the one healed leper who was thankful over against the other nine who weren't: Vulnerability. He owned his vulnerability. My suspicion is that the nine had the attitude of, "I'll beat this thing. It hasn't got me whipped yet. I'll prevail on this miracle-worker and everything will be back to normal." Jesus was a means to an end for them. Nothing more.

But the other leper knew just how vulnerable he was. His attitude was that of the psalmist, who writes: "I am poor and needy; hasten to me, O God! You are my help and my Deliverer; O Lord, do not delay!" (Psalm 70:5)

I have the suspicion that thankfulness, the key to really having something to celebrate today, is rooted in owning our vulnerability, in knowing that "every perfect gift, is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with Whom there is no variation or shadow due to change." (James 1:17)

True thankfulness is born of vulnerability, of an awareness of our total dependence on God. May the gift of vulnerability be ours this Thanksgiving!

(Later, more on the thankful leper and why Jesus told him that his faith had made him well.)

Happy Thanksgiving!