God's special blessing came to thankful leper

I cannot imagine hearing the diagnosis "Unclean." The priest would declare it, should he observe a raw patch of flesh or white bumps or red marks or discolored hair on his patient. The prescription? Immediate isolation.

There would be no soothing ointments or salves, not even an affectionate good-bye from one's family. Packing strips of cloth and a few food items, the victim would leave his home for seven days, hoping this would be a simple case of eczema and not the death sentence known as leprosy.

One week later, the patient would return to be examined by the priest. If there was no improvement, if the sores were brighter or the skin was beginning to shred, it meant the flesh was infected and the victim was forever banished to live with other lepers, all existing on lepers' death row. There would be no more human contact, nothing that could cause them to spread their disfiguring disease.

Picture the lives of the unlucky ones, as written in Luke 17:11-19.

There are ten lepers in this camp, ten talking with loved ones only by yelling from afar, knowing that soon even they will stop having contact as the victim's body begins to twist, shorten, and rot, starting with fingers and toes, destroying the mouth and nose, until finally the leper starves to death or dies from an infection...but not until suffering for several years.

This day is no different --until about noon when a group of passersby are heading toward the village, traveling by the isolated colony. The lepers' instructions are clear: Repeat "unclean" until the pedestrians are out of range. Be prepared for looks of disgust. Some might even wrench.

But the head of this traveling troupe isn't just anybody. It is Jesus, and the mere sight of Him changes the pronouncement "Unclean" to "Jesus, Master, have pity on us." He, unlike others before Him, doesn't turn away. Quite the opposite. He holds out his hands and says, "Go; show yourselves to the priests."

Surely the lepers are puzzled by this. Jesus had healed before with a simple sentence, but these instructions are different. They are to present themselves to the head of the temple. Perplexed, they stare at one another for a few seconds, but then they begin moving, attempting to navigate on twisted legs, amazed that as they do, their legs straighten and their sores begin to heal. By the time they reach their destination, they are clean.

They obeyed. They were healed. Hallelujah!

Nine immediately scamper to their homes, knowing they can once again play with their children and hug their wives. I cannot imagine what a celebration occurred in their neighborhoods that afternoon. What a great end to a tragic story!

Well, maybe not.

For one does not run home. Doing an about-face, he runs back to Jesus, and throwing himself at his Healer's feet, thanks Him over and over again. Jesus touches the leper's head and, looking at his disciples, says, "Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the other nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?" And then Jesus directs His words toward the healed man. "Rise and go. Your faith has made you well."

Here, dear reader, is the point of the story. The one who returned was a Samaritan, an outcast, certainly not worthy of worshiping in the temple or patronizing with the Jews, God's Chosen Ones. The "religious" ones returned to their comfortable homes and families, knowing that on the following Sabbath they would worship in the temple together, saying the prescribed prayers in unison, after which they would return home for a delicious dinner of roasted lamb, with little regard for the One who had healed them. After all, had they not obeyed, they would still be lepers. It was all about their works. Just ask them.

But the special blessing came to the one who recognized the Master and whose first reaction was to make Him a priority.

The obvious question is "Which leper would I have been?"

I would like to think that I would be the thankful one, but all I have to do is count the number of times each day I thank God for all the good in my life, and I have the answer.

Roasted lamb, anyone?