The Other Nine

The Other Nine

I remember the story from Sunday school. I remember the characters—ten men plus Jesus—and watching my teacher press their fuzzy felt bodies onto a flannelgraph, one by one. Ten lepers. One healer. A mighty miracle. And only one thank-you.

Where were the other nine? Were they not ecstatic to spring from their prisons of rotting flesh? As they went on their way, it never occurred to them to turn around and praise the source of their good fortune. The Healer’s words had made them whole, yet they had no words of gratitude for him.

We have so much in common, those other nine and me.

From that first mighty miracle that wrested me from death to life, to the dozens of daily graces that keep testifying to it with pitch-perfect echoes, I am healed. Helped. Loved with a love so wild it might break my bones with a whisper were it not so infinitely kind. Yet I, too, fail to turn to the Giver and say, “Thank you.” So I’m saying it now, because his ear is ever tuned to his people’s hallelujahs.

Thank you, Father: You saw me before I was born and predestined my place at your table. You have been my hiding place from old. You fix me so firmly in your truth, even in storms and uncertainty. You never change.

Thank you, Jesus: You came for me, wooed, and won me. You’ve been utterly faithful through every turn of life. You are each day’s companion from first light to last waking thought. You are so, so good.

Thank you, Spirit: heart tuner, truth arrow, beauty bringer. You whispered, “Jesus” in my ear until I followed. You open my eyes each day to the Father and the Son—I see because you show me where to look.

One day we will sit together at the Lamb’s table, where I will sing grateful hallelujahs to my Father-Son-Spirit God. Until then, glory, glory, glory!

Thank you.

Amen.

One of their number, when he saw that he was cured, turned round and praised God at the top of his voice, and then fell on his face before Jesus and thanked him. . . . Jesus remarked, “Weren’t there ten men healed? Where are the other nine? Is nobody going to turn and praise God for what he has done, except this stranger?”

Luke 17:15-18, PHILLIPS