28th Sunday 2022
2 Kings 5:14-17; 2 Tim 2:8-13; Luke 17:11-19
Pondering today’s readings, I was struck, as you may well have been, by a series of points. Firstly, we have two accounts, in the Second Book of Kings and St. Luke’s Gospel respectively, of people being cured of leprosy. Secondly, in both accounts, a non-Jew, someone who is not a member of God’s Chosen People, is involved: a pagan, in the case of Naaman the Syrian; a schismatic or heretic in the person of the Samaritan cured by Jesus.
Thirdly, in both instances, the non-Jew shows gratitude, both to the person instrumental in the cure, and to God. Fourthly, in the Gospel episode, the gratitude displayed by the non-Jew is contrasted with the failure of the members of the Chosen People to exhibit the same degree of gratitude.
So far, so simple: we can take, from what we have, a call to feel and to express gratitude, both to human beings and to God, coupled with a reminder that non-Catholics, non-Christians, non-believers, may sometimes show greater gratitude than we do; that we may sometimes take things for granted.
Already, there is a fair amount to consider. Am I a grateful person? Do I recognise how much is done for me by others, and how much I receive from God? Do I feel gratitude, and do I express it?
There has been correspondence on Facebook concerning the almost universal practice of thanking the driver on alighting from a bus. Many of us grew up in the days when you didn’t actually see the bus driver, who was ensconced in his cab. You might encounter the conductor/tress as you prepared to disembark, but as you had already thanked him or her for your ticket, you were unlikely to repeat your thanks. Now, travelling frequently by bus from Lancaster to Carnforth, I have noticed that every school pupil, for instance, from a variety of schools, thanks the driver on their way off the bus, in contradiction of the claim by some members of older generations that today’s young people are devoid of manners, a claim which has, of course, been made about every generation of young people since the world’s beginning.
That is a very basic example. Do you and I behave in a similar way in every circumstance, and do we think of thanking God for all that we receive: life, food, friendship, fresh air, football, the gift of God’s Son as our Redeemer, His sacrifice on the Cross, our sharing of that sacrifice in every Mass, the sacraments, our membership of His people? As you know, the Mass is also known as the Eucharist, and Eucharist literally means thanksgiving, so an ungrateful Mass-goer is a contradiction in terms.
There is, though, more to the readings than this message, crucial though it is. Why, for instance, does Naaman ask for earth from the land of Israel? The reason is that people believed in various national gods, and you were expected to worship the god on whose land you stood. By standing on Israelite soil back home in Egypt, Naaman would be entitled to worship the God of Israel, in whom he had come to believe.
But what about the Jewish lepers cured by Our Lord? Were they simply ungrateful? Probably not: instead, they were hampered by their religious obligations. Until they had received a certificate from the priest, they could not be recognised as free from leprosy, and so would still be unable to circulate freely, or to take part in civil or religious life. Can we blame them for putting that before anything else? Perhaps they returned later to thank Jesus: perhaps they thanked and praised God once they had their status confirmed. At least for a time, religion got in the way of their thanksgiving. I leave it to you to consider whether that can still happen.
