1 Out of 10

what the Samaritan leper reveals about the power of gratefulness

by Kevin Goins

The famed British author Rudyard Kipling, best known for The Jungle Book, made a fortune from his writing career. One day a reporter approached him and said, “I’ve read that someone has calculated all the money you’ve made from your books, and it comes to $100 per word.” Then, hoping to turn the meeting into a good story, the man reached into his pocket and said, “Here’s $100, Mr. Kipling. Now give me one of your hundred-dollar words.” The writer took the bill, put it in his wallet, looked at the reporter, and simply said, “Thanks.”

“Thanks” is, indeed, a valuable word—but not just because of the powerful meaning it conveys; it’s a word far more rarely spoken in sincerity than one would think. And strangely, ingratitude is a persistent epidemic in our society, even in the midst of overabundance. How can we get so much and yet thank so little?

Going the Distance

In Luke 17:11-19, Jesus and His disciples were traveling to Jerusalem on the border between Samaria and Galilee when they encountered ten men suffering from leprosy. These men stood at a distance, because by law, they had to stay far away from healthy people lest they contaminate anyone with their disfiguring disease. Mosaic law, enforced by the Jewish religious leaders, declared that lepers were “unclean” and therefore not allowed into the temple to worship God. They could no longer live with their families and were forced to remain outside the city. The law also required them to cover their faces and cry out “Unclean!” whenever anyone came near.

Interestingly, the Hebrew word translated as “face” is the same word used to mean “presence.” To be a leper was to have one’s presence essentially hidden; since their faces could not be exposed, they were unknown to others. Their lives were all about distance: distance from their religious identity, from family, from community. And they “stood at a distance,” calling out to Jesus, “Master, have mercy on us!” (vv. 12-13).

What’s so significant is that Jesus responded to their plea by choosing to heal them from a distance; He simply told them to go show themselves to the priests in Jerusalem, and the ten men were completely healed of their leprosy on the way. Jesus obviously didn’t do this because He was afraid to be near them; after all, He’d already healed one leper by touching him (Mark 1:40-42). But here, Jesus demonstrated that His power to heal is not limited by distance—whether physical or spiritual. Sin might keep us behind a veil and hinder us from finding real intimacy with God and others. But Christ has the power to overcome the distance that separates us. And that’s what He wanted to do for these ten lepers.

Yet only one seemed interested in receiving the fullness of what Jesus was offering, and he was a Samaritan. The Jews looked down upon his “half-breed” race as “unclean” outsiders whose inferior spiritual status excluded them from temple worship. But when this Samaritan realized that Jesus had miraculously healed and restored his body, he alone “came back, praising God in a loud voice. He threw himself at Jesus’ feet, and thanked him” (vv. 15-16 niv). Sadly, the other nine—Jews, who would now be in good standing with their communities and allowed back into the temple—were so eager to get their religious status back that, ironically, they missed God Himself. So Jesus asked His disciples, probably with great hurt and sadness, “Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the other nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” (vv. 17-18 niv).

It was the Jews who grew up constantly hearing about the importance of giving thanks to God; expressing gratitude was a significant part of their corporate worship and even their sacrificial ritual. Furthermore, Jewish tradition included repeating over and over all the blessings God had showered on Israel in the past (Ps. 105; 136). But perhaps that was part of the problem. The poet Ralph Waldo Emerson aptly noted, “If the stars came out only once a year, everyone would stay up all night just to watch.” We tend to ignore the things that are always present or available to us; it’s easy to take those things for granted, no matter how wonderful they are. When we’re accustomed to material blessings, we hardly count them as blessings until we begin to lose them—whether they involve health, financial comfort, or easy access to life’s “necessities.” Might we be so familiar with such blessings that we actually trivialize them or view them as our rights? Have we heard about God’s grace so often that it no longer gets our attention?

Acknowledging Our Need

When Jesus healed these men, He gave them more than physical health—He also restored their independence. Before their encounter with Christ, lepers couldn’t support themselves through a trade because the law prohibited them from coming near non-lepers (Num. 5:2). As a result, they were dependent on charity to keep them alive. But now, these unclean men could reenter society, earn a living, and feed themselves and their families. Before, they hobbled around on whatever portion of their feet the disease hadn’t eaten away; now, they could walk unreservedly throughout the village. Before, they were locked in the grip of a debilitating disease; now, they were released from that “prison” to start life over in newfound freedom. This made it easy to take the gift and run, rather than go back to Jesus and acknowledge their complete dependence on His mercy and grace.

That’s exactly what they would have been doing in thanking Jesus—admitting that everything about the gift they’d been given was fully dependent on the Giver. Anthropologist Joel Gregory says that the Masai tribe of Kenya has a fascinating way of expressing gratitude. They kneel, put their forehead to the ground, and literally say, “My head is in the dirt.” Similarly, members of another tribe sit outside the home of the person they wish to thank and express their feeling with the words, “I sit on the ground before you.” Likewise, the Hebrew word which means “to give thanks” is also the word for “confess.”

These tribal groups understand that gratitude is an act of humility, a confession of dependence. When we sincerely thank someone, we’re acknowledging the fact that the person did something for us which we didn’t do for ourselves. A confession like this is a healthy assault on our pride. And that’s often why we don’t do it—we don’t like admitting that we need others.

But here’s the thing: If we can’t confess to God our deep need for what only He can do, we’ll never be able to receive what we truly need from Him. Consider that after the Samaritan went to thank the Lord for healing him, Jesus graciously accepted his gratitude and said, “Your faith has made you well” (v. 19). The Greek text literally reads, “Your faith has saved you”—and that word “save” (sodzo) is the same one that describes how a person is forgiven and placed in a right relationship with God.

Nine of the lepers responded to their healing by running off so the priests could declare them legally “clean” and, therefore, acceptable again to their community. But only one of the lepers—the religious and social outcast—was able to receive the complete healing that Jesus alone could truly give: the healing of heart, soul, mind, and spirit. In returning to say, “Thank You, Lord,” the Samaritan leper was the only one willing to confess that the rest of his life was a gift, due entirely to the One who gave it to him.

Receiving the Giver

We find it easy to thank God privately, but what about publicly confessing our gratitude? Our acts of humility are a gift back to Him that He delights in receiving; after all, love is a two-way relationship. The more we seek God’s presence in our lives and the more we seek Him in prayer and in His Word, the more we’ll see what He is doing around us—and the more we’ll feel compelled to “give thanks in all circumstances” (1 Thess. 5:18 niv). We’ll also better understand that He truly desires and takes pleasure in our gratitude, just as it means a great deal to us when our spouse or child or friend sincerely thanks us for our everyday acts of love.

But the less we seek God, the less we’ll see Him—so that when He blesses us with good things, we won’t be as likely to think of Him as the Source. We’ll look for more immediate or “present” explanations: I got the job because of the impressive way I performed at the interview. Or, I was healed because I sought the best medical care available. We won’t give the credit to the Lord, because we’re not experiencing His presence and confessing our dependence on Him.

Ultimately, we don’t have to thank God for Him to bless us—He doesn’t give based on who gives Him credit; every good gift that anyone on earth receives comes from Him, whether or not the Gift-giver is acknowledged (Matt. 5:45). Jesus didn’t revoke His gift from the nine lepers who failed to thank Him. But when we take His gifts and run, never confessing our gratitude and dependence, we miss out. We miss out on hearing Him say, “Rise and go—your faith has saved you.” We miss out on receiving the fullness of what He desires to give. Yet, when we choose to live and breathe with continuous gratitude, we free ourselves to receive the greatest gift of all—an intimate friendship with the Giver Himself.