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Letters from St Paul’s - Mercy on the Margins: The Ten Lepers

  • Writer: Rev P
    Rev P
  • Oct 11, 2025
  • 5 min read
Portrait of a man kneeling at a cross and praying

The Ten Lepers - Mercy on the Margins

Jesus is on the road again—heading toward Jerusalem, walking that long and fateful path that will lead to His suffering and His cross. Along the way, He passes through what Luke describes as the region “between Samaria and Galilee.” It’s a kind of borderland—neither here nor there—where people live on the margins.


And it is there, in this in-between place, that Jesus meets ten lepers. Luke tells us they “stood at a distance.” That phrase captures their entire life. Because of their disease, they were cut off from home, from worship, from community. They lived apart, defined by their uncleanness. In that culture, leprosy wasn’t just a medical condition—it was a social and spiritual exile.


From that distance, they cry out, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!” It’s a prayer we still pray every Sunday:


“Lord, have mercy upon us. Christ, have mercy upon us. Lord, have mercy upon us.”


They ask for mercy—and Jesus gives it. He doesn’t make a show of it. There is no touch, no dramatic word of command. Instead, He simply tells them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they go, they are cleansed.



As They Went, They Were Cleansed

It’s worth noticing that the healing happens on the way. They are not healed before they obey, but in the very act of trusting Jesus’ word.


It is a beautiful picture of faith in motion. They take Jesus at His word, step out in obedience, and discover His power as they go.


Sometimes God’s grace works like that in our lives. We long for proof before we move—we want to see the results before we act. But often, it is as we walk forward in trust that His mercy unfolds.


As they went, they were cleansed.


Faith is rarely stationary. It’s not just believing that something is true; it’s acting as if it is. The ten lepers believed Jesus enough to start walking toward the priests before a single blemish disappeared. And as they went, God worked His healing.



The One Who Turned Back

But then comes the turning point. Of the ten who were healed, only one comes back.


He sees that he has been made clean, and he turns around—literally turns back—praising God in a loud voice. He falls on his face at Jesus’ feet and gives thanks. And Luke adds, almost as an aside:


“And he was a Samaritan.”


That little detail changes everything. The one who returns to give thanks is not just an outsider because of disease; he is doubly an outsider because of race and religion. He is one of those whom the Jews would have regarded as spiritually suspect. Yet he becomes the only one who perceives what has really happened.


All ten received healing. But only one recognizes the true source of that mercy. He doesn’t just rejoice in his restored health—he recognizes the Giver, and he returns to give thanks.


And Jesus, with both sadness and wonder in His voice, asks:


“Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?”


Then He turns to the man and says:


“Rise and go your way; your faith has made you well.”



Gratitude as the Fruit of Faith

Here is the heart of this passage: All ten were healed, but only one was made whole.


The Greek word Jesus uses—sozo—can mean “made well,” but it also means saved. It’s the same word Scripture uses for the saving work of God. The nine received physical healing; the one who returned received something deeper—a restoration not just of body, but of soul.


Gratitude, you see, is not merely good manners. It is evidence of a heart transformed by grace. When we return to give thanks, we are acknowledging that we live by mercy. Gratitude is faith made visible.


This is what St. Paul means when he writes:


“Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.”


Thanksgiving is not an afterthought—it is the very language of salvation.



The Eucharistic Life

Every Sunday, when we gather at the altar, we echo that Samaritan’s return. We come into this place as people who have been healed and restored by God’s mercy—people who have been cleansed, though not by our own merit.


And what do we do when we come? We give thanks.


The very word Eucharist means "thanksgiving". The heart of our worship is not asking, but thanking.


At this table, we remember that everything we have—our forgiveness, our breath, our hope—comes from the gracious hand of God.


When we lift up our hearts and say, “It is right to give Him thanks and praise,” we are joining that Samaritan leper in falling at the feet of Jesus.


The Eucharist is the weekly return—the moment when we turn back to the Giver and say, “Thank you, Lord, for Your mercy upon us.”


And as we do, we hear again His words: “Rise and go your way; your faith has made you well.”



Gratitude That Overflows

But true thanksgiving doesn’t end at the altar—it begins there. Eucharistic living means carrying gratitude into the rest of the week.


The Samaritan didn’t remain prostrate in the dust; Jesus sent him back into the world: “Go your way.”


Gratitude always sends us out—to live differently, to love more freely, to forgive more readily, to notice the goodness of God in ordinary moments.


In a culture that constantly tells us we need more—more success, more comfort, more approval—the Gospel calls us instead to notice what we’ve already been given, and to live out of that abundance.


Gratitude is the antidote to entitlement.

It transforms complaint into contentment, and fear into faith.


The Eucharistic life is not a life without wounds, but one that sees—even in hardship—the presence of Christ. It is the life that says:


“Even here, even now, the Lord has had mercy upon me.”



Conclusion: Turning Back to Jesus

Today, as we hear again the story of the ten lepers, the question before us is simple:


Will we be among the nine who rush on with our blessings—or will we be the one who turns back?


It is so easy to move on after God answers our prayers, to receive His mercy and forget the Giver. Yet every act of grace is an invitation to return—to fall again at the feet of Jesus in thanksgiving.


Let us then be a people who turn back—

a people who live Eucharistically,

whose hearts are shaped by gratitude,

whose worship is filled with praise,

whose daily lives reflect the mercy we have received.


And as we come today to this altar—

to give thanks, to receive again the Body and Blood of Christ—

may we hear Him say to each of us:


“Rise and go your way; your faith has made you well.”

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