In the gospel passage, Jesus heals ten lepers. There’s nothing trivial about this gift. To be cured of this dreaded disease is the same as being freed from prison. Now that they are clean, these ten former lepers can return home to be reunited with their family and loved ones. You’d think that all ten would have come back to Jesus filled with much gratitude for what happened, but only one of them did.
So Jesus asked, “Were not all ten made whole?” he doesn’t answer the question for us, but I would venture to say no, the absent nine were not made whole. Oh, they may have been cured of their leprosy but something was missing. To be a whole person is to acknowledge that we are dependent on one another and on God for our well-being.
Throughout its history, our nation has celebrated the simple truth that we owe much to God and for this we are grateful. In 1789, George Washington urged that a day of public thanksgiving and prayer be observed so that we could render “our sincere and humble thanks for his kind care and protection to the people of this country.”
Another president made this observation, “We have been the recipients of the choicest bounties of heaven; we have been preserved these many years in peace and prosperity; we have grown in numbers, wealth and power as no other nation has ever grown.
“But we have forgotten God. We have forgotten the gracious hand which preserved us in peace and multiplied and enriched and strengthened us, and we have vainly imagined, in the deceitfulness of our hearts, that all these blessings were produced by some superior wisdom and virtue of our own. Intoxicated with unbroken success, we have become too self-sufficient to feel the necessity of redeeming and preserving grace, too proud to pray to the God who has made us.”
That president was Abraham Lincoln. With those words, he proclaimed Thanksgiving Day as a national holiday to be celebrated on the last Thursday of November, which our country has done since 1863.
On a day that is largely given over to turkey and dressing, eating and drinking, family and football, we have gathered here this morning to hear the word of God and share in the bread of life, to celebrate the Eucharist, which in Greek, means “Thanksgiving.” No one compels us to be here, but we come, knowing in our hearts and minds and even our gut that it is right and fitting always and everywhere to give thanks to God for all that we have been given.
For some of us the words may not come easy or be spoken with the same vigor and enthusiasm as expressed in these readings. We may have had a year of disappointments and hardships. We may have known the testiness, ill will and peevishness of people from whom we had hoped for love and understanding. We may have tasted illness and death yet no matter what, we know deep in our hearts that God is there even in our driest moments. God never promised us success or happiness or ease. God promises instead to be present to us in our winters, our deserts, our failures, in every moment of our lives.
Expressing our gratitude need not be elaborate; simply to say the words is often sufficient to convey our indebtedness to the donor, whose action usually leaves us richer. If we don’t express them, what message does that send to the giver? If we don’t hear them, are we left thinking that the recipient doesn’t appreciate what we have done? And if we feel slighted, imagine how God may feel for all that we have been given. Unexpressed gratitude is like winking at someone in the dark. You know how you feel about them, but they don’t.
Thank you. Two simple words yet they convey so much, don’t they?
On this day, I especially want to say thank you for the many ways you strive to make our parish a vibrant faith community, so in closing, I say, “Thank you and thank God.”