28th Sunday 2025
2Kings 5:14-17; 2Tim 2:8-13; Luke 17:11-19
Do children still read “The Black Arrow” by Robert Louis Stevenson? I suspect not, as there is so much recent children’s literature available. I recall reading “The Black Arrow” at the very time that a serialisation of it appeared on children’s television, and I can still feel the horror which gripped me as the supposed leper, hooded and cloaked and ringing his bell to keep people away, suddenly turned to chase the young hero and heroine. I suspect that the episode ended there, leaving us on tenterhooks until the following week.
In the end, this turned out to be no leper, but Sir Daniel Brackley, later to be revealed as the villain, in disguise, but it showed the deep fear of leprosy which persisted until recent times. That fear was justified: leprosy is highly contagious, and you may remember that St. Damian of Molokai, whose story I also learned in Primary School, and whom RL Stevenson greatly admired, himself contracted leprosy from those whom he was nursing.
One of the great curses of leprosy was the isolation to which it gave rise. Lepers had to live apart, avoiding all contact with society. For Jewish lepers in biblical times there was the added handicap of being ritually unclean, barred from the religious life of the community.
People would therefore go to great lengths in search of a cure. Naaman, whose leprosy must have been less severe at this stage, as he was an army commander and travelled with a retinue, came to Samaria to seek a cure from the prophet Elisha. Why, having been cured, did he ask for two mule-loads of earth?
This was a result of the belief in tribal gods. People were expected to worship the gods of the land in which they were: hence Naaman, who has been converted to faith in the God of Israel, wants a quantity of the soil of Israel, in order that he may stand on it when he prays, and so technically be in Israel. As a footnote, it is worth considering that he, a foreigner and until then, a pagan, returned from his cure to thank Elisha and to worship God.
Why then do the nine Jewish lepers fail to return to praise God and to thank Jesus? Is it ingratitude on their part? That may be a factor, reminding us of the importance of gratitude—gratitude to God and gratitude to other people.
How much do we take for granted, especially where God is concerned? How much of our prayer is prayer of thanksgiving? Our central act of worship is the Eucharist, which the Second Vatican Council described as “the source and summit of the Christian life”, and “Eucharist” means “thanksgiving”; to this day, the Greek word for “thank you” is efcharisto. As Christians, and especially as Catholics, we are a Eucharistic people: an ungrateful Catholic is a contradiction in terms.
There may, though, be another factor involved, and that, ironically, is the religion of the Jewish lepers. The very thing which should make them grateful gets in the way of their gratitude. You remember the parable of the Good Samaritan, in which the priest and the Levite pass by the injured man. The reason was probably fear of ritual contamination, which would have disqualified them from carrying out their religious duties.
Here, another religious element is involved. Jesus has told the cured lepers to show themselves to the priests. This was to obtain an official declaration that they were free of the disease: without it, they could not return to the life of the community. Hence, they were so focused on being ritually declared clean, that every other consideration was left aside. Again, religious duty stood in the way of what should have been a higher priority.
On the other hand, the Samaritan, being outside the pale of Judaism, has no need of, and is probably not entitled to, such a declaration. Hence, he is free to give rein to his natural inclination to praise God and to thank Jesus.
What is this saying to us? That Judaism is bad? Surely not! It is the religion which Jesus Himself practised. That religion itself is bad? Again, not so! Without formal religion, without the community of the Church, we lack cohesion, and a context in which to love and serve God, and to receive His greatest gifts. Rather, it is the old truth that rules, including religious rules, are a means to an end. Once they become an end in themselves, they turn into an idol, because they betray their proper function. Let us by all means keep the rules, but always remembering their purpose. Let them lead us closer to God, and enable us to express and celebrate that gratitude which is at the heart of all worship.
