We have heard a great deal about boundaries over the past few years.   And, while I believe some boundaries are necessary, very needed, and extremely healthy, I also believe that far too often we impose boundaries and build walls that not only keep others out of our lives, but also fence us in, isolating us from others and the world.  And, quite frankly, too often, as we have seen in our current political climate, we simply draw a line in the sand, create unreasonable boundaries, and then refuse to cross those lines to seek common ground.

When we meet up with Jesus today, he is continuing his journey to Jerusalem, his journey toward the cross.  As he and his disciples continue that cross-bound journey, they move into a border area, the boundary between Samaria and Galilee.  This boundary was a scary and uncomfortable place.  It was a boundary the Jewish people did not like to cross because it took you into that place where those hated and despised Samaritans lived.  And, look who Jesus meets at that border – ten lepers who raise their voices and cry out to Jesus saying, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!”  These lepers, knowing they are unclean, keep their distance from Jesus, because that is what the law stipulates.  By law, they are not to go near those who do not have leprosy.  Enduring the labels of “outcast” and “unclean” they are required to live apart from the rest of society.  They are required to live within yet a different kind of boundary, one that keeps them totally estranged from all others.  Considered ritually unclean, they were quarantined and treated as objects of revulsion and fear on the part of their neighbors.  So, as these ten lepers cry for mercy, not one of them breaks the social conventions that surround their disease as they cry to Jesus from a distance.

The writer of Luke’s gospel tells us Jesus sees these lepers and tells them to go show themselves to the priests.  This was also required by law because the priests would have to inspect the lepers and verify their cleanliness.  Only then could they be readmitted to the temple and be freed from their status as unclean.  So, they go, and while on their way, they become clean.  All ten are healed, but only one comes back to say thank you to Jesus for the healing.  This one leper, when he realized he had been healed, turned around and came back, shouting his gratitude and glorifying God.

So, why did only one leper return to offer thanks?  Part of the answer may be found in the identity of this healed man. He alone is identified as a Samaritan.  He was considered an outcast, not just because of his disease.  He was considered an outcast because he was a foreigner, a hated Samaritan.  As such, he was twice scorned, twice rejected, and twice removed from community.

It really is interesting that this despised Samaritan is the one who expresses gratitude and stops to say thanks.  The writer of Luke’s gospel again chooses a Samaritan to make a point.  And, as he does, we can pretty much assume his point is not about the proper etiquette for saying thank you.  Luke is not giving his first-century listeners a lesson in proper protocol for receiving healing.  No.  Again and again, we find Luke’s Jesus teaching in parables and living in ways that disorient his followers with the shock of something new.  Again and again, Luke’s Jesus shows the people that God is close at hand, in your neighbor, in those you don’t consider neighbors, in an act of compassion and in a touch of healing.

So, why did the Samaritan, the foreigner, come back to thank Jesus?  Jesus had not made a formal thank you part of the bargain.  He simply told them to go and show themselves to the priests. Well, we really do not know why the Samaritan is the only one to return.  However, just maybe the writer of Luke was more interested saying something about faith and also interested in describing the boundaries, or maybe we should say lack of boundaries, when it comes to God’s grace.  You see, when it comes to God’s grace, imposed boundaries will ultimately expand to include even those the world defines as unclean, immigrant, alien, foreign, and impure.  Luke seems to be telling us a story about faith and a very daring boundary crossing.  A crossing that is daring on the part of Jesus, and also on the part of the Samaritan.

So, the Samaritan alone returns and, if we look at his posture, we discover that he comes close to Jesus and humbly lies down at Jesus’ feet.  Of the ten who were healed, he alone – a despised foreigner – breaches the boundaries and moves from an experience and life of isolation to one of grateful intimacy.  While the other nine perform the necessary rituals and practices, he alone feels obliged to say thank you.  And maybe, just maybe, in his need to say thank you there was a yearning for intimacy with God, a sense that faith cannot simply mean performance of ritual.  Faith requires relationship.  Faith – something that in itself is all gift – lures us, grasps us, and draws us into relationship with God, a relationship that is healing, intimate, humbling, and yes, even dependent.

I cannot help but wonder if part of the illness we are seeing within our present culture and broken society, is due to a deep self-centeredness, a viewpoint that assumes we are right, that assumes we are entitled to what we have.  We draw deeply entrenched boundary lines, and we do not want to cross those lines.  We become so preoccupied with our own needs, our own wants, protecting what we have while attempting to justify our unwavering position and perspective, that we maintain our distance from others while holding on to an illusion, yes an illusion, of absolute independence.  In doing so we continue to create divisions among people, cast others aside as unclean, and attempt to make others appear as outcasts.

“Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back.”  One turned back from maintaining the protection of distance, turned back from going his or her own way, turned back from self-justification, turned back from the illusion of independence, and knelt down at Jesus’ feet, proclaiming ultimate dependence on God.  And, in doing so, gave thanks and showed deep gratitude.  It is worth noting that Jesus does not remove the gift of healing from the other nine. However, he does reinforce the statement he makes so often, “Your faith has made you well.” This seems to suggest a deeper level of spiritual or existential healing that this grateful Samaritan will enjoy, a level of wellness that goes beyond the physical.

Gratitude!  Honestly, to “have faith” is to live it, and to live it is to give thanks. It is living a life of gratitude that constitutes living a life of faith – this is the grateful sort of faith that has made the Samaritan truly well, wholistically well. And gratitude is an expression of our need for others, of our need for God.  We cannot live within our deeply entrenched boundaries, live at a distance, and become truly healed at the same time.  The fact of the matter is, all that we have, all that we think we are entitled to, all of our stuff, our health, our position, our job, the list goes on and on, all is gift.

When we begin to grasp and understand that all is gift, we begin to know gratitude.  And, it is gratitude that teaches us about the truth of our very lives – the truth that we live in a profoundly interdependent world.  The strength and health of our communities, our country and our very selves comes to us as gift when we live in relationship to others.

The healthiest people I know are those whose lives are not lived as the self-made man or woman, living within their protective boundaries, and thinking they are so very independent.  The healthiest people I know are those whose very lives express deep gratitude as they have reached across boundaries to enrich and embrace others and be enriched and embraced by others.  The healthiest people I know are those who understand that to be truly well, to become truly whole, requires the embrace of the alien grace of Christ’s daring love, the embrace of the God who crosses all boundaries to love us where we are and as we are and make us God’s own.