NewCreation

Homily for 28th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C

Welcome, my sisters and brothers, to this the homily for the 28th Sunday in Ordinary Time, recorded in darkness since there was a loud concert in the square during the evening when I would normally record this, so I've had to wait until it's finished before I can do the recording. Anyhow, today's Gospel continues directly on from last Sunday's Gospel, and here we are back on the road. On the way to Jerusalem, Jesus was going through the region between Samaria and Galilee. A good deal of ink has been spilt as to what that might mean, but I've had the good fortune to come across a French edition, a French translation of the Aramaic version of Luke's Gospel. That's the ancient language that Jesus spoke and that people around him spoke. And it turns out that it's slightly different in that version, but gives a very good sense of exactly where Jesus was going. There it is: Jesus wandered in his route towards Jerusalem, a desolate region of north Samaria. Now it turns out that there is a region, the borders of Samaria with Galilee, one third of which is pretty much desolate. There's no villages there, and in the next two thirds as you head south there are some villages, so it actually makes perfect sense that that would be a place in which a group of lepers might hang out. And furthermore, because it was between Samaria and Galilee, the lepers would be mixed — people of both Jewish and Samaritan inheritance, a heritage. So Jesus is wandering through this. It's interesting that the Aramaic verb for wandering is the same verb as the verb from which we get "Hebrew nomad." It was "Abra" — "he wandered." So there's a wandering Hebrew through this territory. We'll just have a little hint as to how some of these words play out later. As he entered the village, ten lepers approached him. Actually, it's rather bizarre that the English translation here doesn't say "ten lepers who were men." We could simply say "ten lepers" with the masculine, but it says "ten lepers — men." Called out to him — it just says "men." And presumably the reason it says "men" is to indicate that they were of mixed background. There were no women present, but these men were of mixed background, rather than give their ethnicity. And they drew near, but they kept their distance — or they stood back from him. And the verb apparently in Aramaic is the verb in which frightened dogs keep their distance. And they called out — in Aramaic, they raised up their voices as one raises one's voice to heaven. And they said, "Jesus, Rabbi" — and "Rabboni," which is "our Rabbi" — "not have mercy on us," which suggests that they're asking for forgiveness, but "have pity on us," which is the word you would call out if you want a concrete, practical solution. "help me out with my car wreck" — it's that sort of thing, rather than "forgive me my sins, for I am terrible." So they're asking him to do something. They've presumably heard about him. Do something for us. They've heard that he's a thaumaturge, that he can do things. When he saw them, he said to them, "Go and show yourselves to the priests." Interesting. Go and show your necks to the priests. You remember the Aramaic way of saying "yourself," your soul, your self, is the neck. Go show your necks to the priests. It's interesting he doesn't specify which priests. So he would presumably have been perfectly happy for those of Samaritan heritage to go to the Samaritan priests and those of Jewish heritage to go to the Jewish priests. The point was that the priests had a bureaucratic function as the local registers of health issues. So you needed, in order — before you could move back into acceptable society, cleansed, purified from whatever the strange skin condition — which is not the same as Hansen's disease, as we now call leprosy — whatever that strange condition was, you needed the priest as the equivalent of the local health official to certify that you could now come back into ordinary society. And as they went, they were made clean. And of course that is how faith works for Jesus. He tells them to do something. He doesn't say "I cleanse you." He says just go and tell the priests, go and show yourself to the priests. And they believe him. They've already asked for pity. They know that he can do this, and as they go they find themselves clean — on the route they find themselves clean. That's how faith works: as we find ourselves walking towards something that we believe is good, that is coming towards us, so actually we are transformed into that thing that is coming towards us. So they've set off, nothing wrong. Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice. He prostrated himself at Jesus' feet and thanked him. And he was a Samaritan. Now remember that this group of people — and apparently this was quite a normal thing — groups of lepers would hang out together so as to help each other. Basically they were social solidarity groups in a difficult place. They were the rejects and they would hang out and look after each other. And apparently during that rejecting they would pay little attention to who was a Jew, who was a Samaritan, because they shared their rejectedness. So this one, when he saw that he was healed — so he'd headed off with them — turns back and praises God with a loud voice. He realizes something wonderful has been done to him and he comes back to Jesus. He prostrates himself at Jesus' feet and thanks him. In other words, he's very exaggerated. He acts as one would towards a king or towards God. This is very, very extravagant behavior. And he was a Samaritan. In other words, In clean times, when people were clean, he was the kind of person who they would want to be separate from anyhow. And then Jesus asks — and in the Aramaic version it's perfectly clear that Jesus is asking him — he says, "Were not ten of you healed, or cleansed?" The nine others: why have they separated themselves off and not come back and given thanks? But then he turns to other people. This stranger — and the word is a tough word, it might be like "heretic," this outsider, it's the allogenēs, this other — but you know, it's a tough word. This other has come back and given... he was the only one among them who came back and gave glory to God. So it's interesting that in the Aramaic version, those who set themselves apart and don't come back to give thanks, they're just heading off towards getting their cure — perfectly legitimate. But the same verb as setting themselves apart is the same verb that gives us "Pharisees," those who separate themselves. The suggestion being that these people, once they're purified, are perfectly happy to go back into belonging to the system where all the old ins and outs will function normally. Whereas the Samaritan, one of the outsiders, has perceived that something much bigger than that has happened. He's not being put back into any system. He's being brought to life by this, which is why he's been able to come and give a completely wholehearted act of thanks to Jesus and to God. There's been such a change in his life that he's broken free of having to go along with what the others are doing. He's now able to step out, not concerned with whether he's part of the group or not, and come to give thanks. And so Jesus says to him, "Get up and go. Your faith has saved you." Actually, it's "your faith has given you your life." And it's interesting here that this is not just something — you know, it's the same as the others. He's definitely saying something more here, at least again according to the Aramaic version. Any of them have been cleansed. Being cleansed was a cultic matter. But this one shows that it's more than being cleansed. He has actually recovered his soul, his sense of being human, who he is — his nefesh has been brought to life. And Jesus is observing this, observing how the ones who fit back into the system, well, they've been cleansed. But this one — this one has seen something more than that. By his attitude you can tell that his whole life has begun in a completely new and rich way. This, I think, is very much in line with Jesus. Noticing the woman who washed his feet – noticing and commenting about the woman who washed his feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. "I tell you, this woman – it must be because she has loved so much that she has been forgiven. You can tell that she has been forgiven because she has loved so much." Rather than: now she'll be forgiven, then she'll be able to love. Jesus is noticing something with a delight, seeing someone coming to life because their wholeheartedness has taken them way beyond what might have happened. This, I think, is something of what grace, the Gospel of grace, is about. Jesus taking delight in us finding ourselves taken far beyond simple perfunctory thank-yous and our ways, and actually being able to live with enormous gratitude as we find ourselves brought to life. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.