There is a certain irony, and even tragedy, in our Gospel story today. We have 10 lepers: nine Jews and one Samaritan. The Samaritan was the odd man out. Unwelcome in Jerusalem, unwelcome in the Temple.
Scripture makes it clear: Jews and Samaritans did not get along. They had nothing in common. Nothing, that is, except this one Samaritan, who shared the same disease as the Jews around him.
By law, lepers were required to live outside the camp, away from healthy society. And so, despite their deep differences, all ten were outcasts, huddled together on the margins of two places. St. Luke tells us they were along the border between Samaria and Galilee.
And here is the irony: only the Samaritan – the one outsider among the outcasts – returned to Jesus, a Jew, to say “thank you.”
Ten had cried out, “Please!” but only one came back to say, “Thank you.”
He thanked Jesus for restoring his health, for removing his leprosy – and with it, removing his isolation from the human race. But even more importantly, he thanked Jesus for giving him the faith that ended his isolation from God.
Jesus’ last words to the man are unforgettable: “Your faith has brought you salvation.”
Throughout His ministry, Jesus broke down barriers. He overturned empty traditions. He moved close to lepers, even curing them on the Sabbath. His concern was never about keeping the letter of the law – it was always about people. Not religion for its own sake, but life and love.
And did you notice? This is the only place in the Gospels where we see Jesus asking for a “thank you.” It was a teaching moment, for the sake of His followers. It was to show them, and us, that gratitude matters deeply to God, and that thankfulness is a sign of living faith.
We still have lepers today – people we keep at a distance. People we’d rather not think about. People we quietly keep “outside the camp.” The elderly who are left alone and separated. Those struggling with alcohol or drug addiction. The divorced neighbor trying to rebuild their life. The unemployed person wondering how they’ll get by.
We often keep these people at an arm’s length, much like society did with lepers in Jesus’ time.
But Jesus didn’t stop at simply feeling compassion. He turned compassion into action. And so must we. Jesus does not walk our streets in the flesh today, so the only way He can reach the lepers of our time is through us.
That means we must do more than offer sympathy from a distance. We must be willing to reach out.
We can always find reasons not to: fear of rejection, our own problems, our lack of time. But following Christ means being light for those in darkness. It means feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, visiting the sick, welcoming the stranger.
Being a light for those in darkness reflects the spirit of the Church’s Jubilee Year. As “Pilgrims of Hope,” we, like the ten lepers, journey in search of healing and new life. Along the way, we are called to trust in God and respond with grateful hearts.
My friends, take a moment today to thank God. Thank Him for the ordinary blessings we so easily take for granted: your life, your faith, your family, your loved ones. And above all, thank Him for the greatest gift He has ever given us – the gift of His only Son.
The Son we receive in the Eucharist. The Son who can heal us, no matter who we are or what we have done. The Son who always welcomes us at His table.
Such a thoughtful homily, thank you for those words so we all can realize exactly what God does for us.
In order to thank Jesus for having cured him of leprosy, the one who returned had to be willing, “post-cure”, to admit that there had been a time during which he’d been a leper.
Maybe there was a difference between the stereotypical “mind-set” of the Samaritans, and the stereotypical “mind-set” of “the non-Samaritans”, that allowed the one who returned, to admit that he “had ‘a past'”, whereas “the others” felt required to “pretend that it never happened”.