When I studied
English literature, I always had trouble with the word ‘irony,’ which I could
never quite define.
However, I know it
when I see it.
And I see it—or rather,
hear it—in today’s Gospel, when Jesus says “Were not ten made clean? But the
other nine, where are they?”
If that’s not
irony, then it might be sarcasm. Whatever it is, this story of Jesus and the
lepers shows both his humanity and his divinity. As God, he heals them; as a
human being he’s pained by the nine ungrateful lepers.
None of us has
ever healed a leper, but haven’t we all felt what Jesus did when he asks, “Was
none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?”
I hope our family
life is less complicated than a Shakespeare play, but we can understand what King
Lear meant when he called ingratitude a “marble-hearted fiend.” Ingratitude
hurts.
Now we can’t
literally hurt God, whom St. Paul tells us is “immortal and lives in unapproachable
light.” But when we are ungrateful, we hurt ourselves by damaging our
relationship with him, the giver of all good gifts.
It’s almost
ironic! When we fail to be grateful to God, we’re the losers. Jesus is just
helping us to understand that by showing his consternation with respect to the
nine no-show lepers.
I once did a
series of enormous favours for a young man I was mentoring. To my amazement, he
failed to thank me for any of them. Although I did feel some personal pain, it
was mostly on his account that I was disappointed; he missed out on an
important life lesson by failing to express his gratitude, even if he may have felt
it inside.
(We talked about
it many years later, when he had grown as a disciple, and he was deeply sorry;
by then he had learned well the importance of saying thanks to others and to
God.)
Happily, the
liturgy this Sunday gives us Naaman the Syrian, a great example of a thankful
man. He’s so thankful that he almost annoys his benefactor, the Prophet Elisha,
by insisting on giving him an offering.
It’s a great story
because, of course, it shows that there’s nothing we can give to God in return
for all his blessings. Just our thanks.
It’s worth noting
that neither of the two fine examples of thanksgiving we meet today are Christians.
Indeed, both are religious outsiders—Naaman a foreigner and the grateful leper
a Samaritan.
But God has given Christians
the perfect way to express our gratitude to him, a means not available to the
leper, to Naaman, or even the Prophet Elisha—the Mass.
The psalmist was prophesying
about the Eucharistic sacrifice when he prayed: “How can I repay the Lord for
all his goodness to me? The cup of salvation I will raise; I will call on the
name of the Lord.” (Ps. 116)
Do we come before the
Lord every Sunday with that attitude of gratitude? It’s easy to place our
complaints or petitions on the altar, and we are allowed to do that. But
arriving in church with thanksgiving—not just a general feeling but specifically
aware of the graces we receive every day—can transform our experience of the
weekly Eucharist.
There is a great
blessing if we come before the Lord with gratitude. It changes our approach to
life; even more important, it changes our relationship with God. I mentioned
how we feel bad when someone fails to thank us; we can feel even worse when
someone takes us for granted.
When we take God
for granted, our relationship with him suffers. One author has asked “How many
are the graces we receive from the morning sun, the smile of a friend, a comfortable
bed at night? How bountifully have we received from the Lord: knowledge of
Jesus Christ, the community of faith, and the sacraments that keep us strong in
the Lord’s love?”*
Our celebration of
Thanksgiving this weekend is an ideal time to say thanks to our family and
friends. But most of all, it is a time to thank the One who is the giver of all
good gifts.
* Rev. William F.
Maestri, A Word in Season, page 136.
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