We Come Seeking Wholeness When we come to worship, we come seeking wholeness. Some of us carry burdens visible only to ourselves, grief that has no name, wounds that refuse to close, anxieties that steal our sleep. We come hoping that God will meet us in our need, that somehow the ache within might find relief. Today's readings remind us that divine healing works in unexpected ways and that receiving God's mercy is only the beginning of the journey. The Scandal of Simple Grace In 2 Kings 5, we meet Naaman, a powerful military commander brought low by leprosy. He comes to the prophet Elisha seeking a cure, expecting grand gestures—perhaps dramatic prayers or mystical rituals befitting his status. Instead, Elisha doesn't even come out to meet him. The instruction arrives secondhand: "Go, wash in the Jordan seven times." Naaman is outraged. The muddy Jordan? Aren't there cleaner rivers back home? The remedy seems too simple, almost insulting.
But herein lies the scandal of grace: God's healing often comes through the most ordinary means. Water. Bread. Wine. A word of absolution. A neighbor's kindness. The very simplicity of God's methods strips away our illusions of control and forces us to acknowledge our need. Naaman must choose: will he cling to his pride, or will he humble himself and obey?
When Naaman finally submits and washes in the Jordan, his flesh is restored "like the flesh of a young boy." But something deeper has been healed as well. His pride, his self-sufficiency, his belief that healing could be earned or managed on his own terms—all of this is washed away with his disease. He returns to Elisha a different man, no longer demanding but declaring: "Now I know that there is no God in all the earth except in Israel." Physical healing has become the doorway to faith. What began as a quest for clean skin ends as an encounter with the living God. A Public Sign of Mercy This pattern echoes through Scripture. The Psalmist proclaims, "The Lord has revealed his salvation; all the ends of the earth have seen the saving power of God." Healing is never meant to be a private transaction between God and an individual. When one person is made whole, it reverberates outward—an invitation to the entire community to lift their voices in praise. God's mercy becomes a public sign, meant to inspire wonder and draw others toward the source of all goodness. Gratitude naturally spills over into evangelization, as our joy becomes a testament others cannot ignore. The One Who Returned In Luke's Gospel, we see this dynamic brought to fulfillment. Ten lepers cry out to Jesus from a distance—separated by their condition from family, synagogue, and society itself. Jesus tells them simply, "Go and show yourselves to the priests." As they go, they are cleansed. All ten receive the gift they sought. All ten are physically healed.
But only one returns. Only one, a Samaritan—a double outcast—turns back, glorifying God with a loud voice, falling at Jesus' feet in thanksgiving. And Jesus notices the absence of the others. “Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine?” His question lingers in the air, a gentle rebuke and a profound teaching. The nine received healing but missed the deeper gift: restored communion with God and community. They were cured but not made whole. Healed, Grateful, and Sent The Samaritan alone understands that gratitude is not an optional addition to healing but its very completion. His thanksgiving doesn't just acknowledge what he's received; it transforms him from recipient to witness, from patient to missionary. "Rise and go," Jesus tells him. "Your faith has made you well." He is sent forth, not to return to his old life unchanged, but to live as a sign of God's mercy—healed, grateful, and commissioned.
This is the pattern of discipleship: we are healed not for our sake alone, but so that we might bear witness to the One who heals. Gratitude turns us outward, propelling us back into the world with good news to share. When we truly recognize what God has done for us, we cannot help but tell others.
Healing humbles us. Gratitude transforms us. Mission completes us. When God restores us, He also sends us, not only to proclaim what we've received, but to reveal the generous heart of the Giver Himself.