It's a paradox: The more we invite change, the more we stay the same. A friend calls this "rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic." It gives the appearance of change while doing nothing to address the underlying problem deep down below.
What rejoicing! They were well--no longer outcasts. They could go home. But first they must get a priest to pronounce them healed. Where was the nearest priest? But one of the lepers stopped. He had something even more important than finding a priest.
Jesus does not offer simplistic answers. He does not explain God. He does not point fingers. He looks straight at us and says, "Examine yourself, friends." In case we miss the flashing yellow light he adds, "Unless you tell the truth about who you are and repent, you'll perish just like they did."
Imagine that the economy went really bad and we had to line up for basic food rations. Imagine that there was a breakdown in law and order in our community. Would we still hold a festival of thanksgiving? Would there still be something to be thankful about? The apostle Paul would say, "Yes".
Blame the stars, blame the schools, blame the government, blame the folks – even blame oneself. We do it and we keep on doing it. We ask the same question, "Whose fault is it, anyway?" Jesus tells us not to blame the victim.
What's unusual is not that the other nine were well on their way to the Temple, but that one turned back to say thank you. Luke tells us, almost tongue-in-cheek: "By the way, he was a Samaritan." Imagine that you're part of the Jewish audience to whom Jesus was speaking. This would've been a slap in the face.
Ten lepers were healed but only one turned back to give thanks to God. Ten were healed but only was saved. As Martin Luther said, "God does not need our work and has not commanded us to do anything for Him but to give thanks and praise Him."
When bad things happen, we often look for a positive outcome to soften the blow. When a child died, a funeral director said, "You know, God picks the most beautiful flowers for his heavenly bouquet." Somehow, I didn't find that to be a very comforting thought.
The secular world has taken over Sunday. Is that because Christians let it happen? What would happen if every Christian in Australia with one voice said "Sorry I can’t do that – that’s my time to worship God"? Would it make a difference?
The hard sayings of Jesus are hard because they call us to live by our convictions--to walk the walk as well as to talk the talk. We cannot hear only what we want to hear. We cannot love only those we want to love. We cannot put our faith in a drawer and take it out only when it suits us.