Luke 17:11-19

On the day I first met Debbie face to face, I walked into her house to find her playing Meat Loaf’s ‘Bat Out Of Hell’ album. She was a fan of his music, and about a year after we married she took me to see him live in Hyde Park.

It was probably the worst concert I’ve ever attended, and we walked out on it.

Admittedly, Debbie too was feeling queasy, and the next morning we learned why: our first child was on the way.

If you know Meat Loaf’s songs, you’ll be familiar with one called ‘Two Out Of Three Ain’t Bad.’ It’s not a very flattering lyric that he sings about a girl:

I want you, I need you,
But there ain’t no way I’m ever gonna love you.
Now don’t be sad,
‘Cos two out of three ain’t bad. (Jim Steinman, 1977)

The last time I preached on this passage three years ago, I took inspiration from that song title and called the sermon ‘One Out Of Ten Ain’t Bad.’

This time (and there is some crossover with last time) I have been particularly struck by the geographical background, and what that teaches us about Christian mission.

Firstly, Jesus goes to the margins:

Now on his way to Jerusalem, Jesus travelled along the border between Samaria and Galilee. (Verse 11)

Here’s the thing. Jerusalem is in the south. Galilee is in the north. There is more than one route Jesus could take. He doesn’t have to go near Samaria, but he does.

This is the border not only in a geographical sense but also in a spiritual sense. For the Jews regarded the Samaritans of their day as heretics. What they believed was unsound. But Jesus goes near them. And of course, that is emphasised by the fact that one of the ten lepers was a Samaritan.

And maybe this is a little unusual for Jesus. When he meets the Syrophoenician woman in Matthew 15, he tells her he was only sent to ‘the lost sheep of Israel.’ His mission is mainly to Israel. It will extend from there after his ascension.

The only comparable incident is in John 4, where he meets the Samaritan woman at the well. And the similarity there extends in that geographically Jesus didn’t need to go that way.

So, this is a deliberate decision by Jesus to go to the margins. Even if his primary call is to be with Israel, the People of God, he will from time to time loiter with missional intent among those whose beliefs are dubious.

Who are the people on the margins for us where we can demonstrate God’s love, as Jesus does here? For some of us, it’s easy to mingle among people on the margins. We have people in our families who don’t share our faith. We have neighbours. We have work colleagues.

But some of us spend so much time among the People of God that we need to take deliberate steps to mingle with others. It’s not healthy to make the church the be-all and end-all of our social lives. I know how easy that would be for me. I could spend all my time just going from one church meeting to another, if I wanted, as if Jesus had actually said (in the words of the late Gerald Coates), ‘I have come that they might have meetings, and have them more abundantly.’

For me, it has to be intentional to spend time with people outside the church. My main way of doing this is by being a member of the local camera club. It’s my hope that I can build friendships there, demonstrate God’s love by how I relate to people, and then when the time is right say something about my faith.

Can each of us ask ourselves, where is my margin between people of faith and those who don’t see life like me? What am I doing to cultivate these relationships? What can I do in those relationships and situations to show the love of God? Can I begin praying regularly for these people, that there might be an opportunity to introduce them to God’s love in Jesus?

Secondly – and related to this – Jesus works publicly:

¹² As he was going into a village, ten men who had leprosy met him. They stood at a distance ¹³ and called out in a loud voice, ‘Jesus, Master, have pity on us!’

¹⁴ When he saw them, he said, ‘Go, show yourselves to the priests.’ And as they went, they were cleansed.

All the action happens in public. They are on the outskirts of a village. Jesus responds publicly. And perhaps most significantly of all, he tells them to go to the priests.

As you may well know, in that society, for a leper to be allowed back into mainstream society, a priest had to verify they were healed. This was an ancient form of infection control. You could not risk someone coming back into the village when they could still infect others.

In other words, what Jesus did in healing the ten could be verified. And there was no shame in seeking that verification. It contrasts hugely with some of the more extreme characters in Christian healing who pray for the sick and tell them to throw their pills away before the healing has been confirmed. Allegedly, this is supposed to be an act of faith, but in reality, there are people who have flushed away their medication, only to find they were not healed in the first place.

I’m not suggesting any of us would do something so reckless, foolish, and dangerous. But I am saying that Jesus’ example here is consistent with his own teaching in the Sermon on the Mount when he tells his disciples to let their light shine before others.

We don’t need to be afraid of accountability. Let the world see what we do and evaluate it. How else can it be a testimony to God’s love? It has to be seen.

Christian witness must be in the public arena. For too long, we have treated the church like a fortress, rushed back inside it, and pulled up the drawbridge to isolate ourselves from the world.

But that achieves nothing. In fact, it leads to the further decline of the church. We need to be known in society for what we do in love for people.

Some of this happens on a large scale, way beyond small local churches, when we set up Christian schools that serve the community, or when major charities do substantial work. But should we not also ask, what are we known for as a church in this locality? We certainly have a history of blessing this village, and it’s good to keep coming back to that question. Whatever good we may have done in the past, what are we doing today outside these walls to bear witness to a God who loves the people of this village dearly that his Son Jesus Christ died for them?

Over the years, I’ve seen this in everything from a Christian GP surgery where we were patients, and which took on the difficult patients that other surgeries refused to sign on, to the outreaches to the lonely that Haslemere Methodist Church engages in. What would it be here?

Thirdly and finally, Jesus engages in cross-cultural evangelism:

¹⁵ One of them, when he saw he was healed, came back, praising God in a loud voice. ¹⁶ He threw himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him – and he was a Samaritan.

¹⁷ Jesus asked, ‘Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the other nine? ¹⁸ Has no one returned to give praise to God except this foreigner?’ ¹⁹ Then he said to him, ‘Rise and go; your faith has made you well.’

Some people look at this and say, oh look! A Samaritan has faith! This is a sign that God accepts people of all religions!

And this is frankly bunk. The faith Jesus commends is one that kneels at his feet and thanks him. The faith the Samaritan has exercised is in Jesus.

This is the end game for our mission, that people find faith in Jesus and confess him as Lord. We still offer love without any strings attached. We do not make our love conditional on people listening to the Gospel. But it is always our hope and our prayer that the witness of our loving acts will sooner or later lead people to put their faith in Jesus.

If anything, the story’s rebuke for existing believers is not about failing to accept that others can have faith, it is about the failure to thank God for his blessings. Yet when someone encounters Jesus for the first time like the Samaritan leper it is quite possible that his love will bowl them over and will lead to an affirmation of faith.

I have told some of you the story of how an Iranian political refugee started coming to one of my churches. He had had to escape from Iran so quickly he left behind his wife and young son – and also not knowing that his wife was pregnant with their second boy.

After a year or so with us, he asked to be baptised. I convened a meeting with him and the church member who had particularly come alongside him. Being aware that he was applying for leave to remain in the UK and that some refugees had spuriously gone through baptism to get that status, we questioned him closely about why he wanted to be baptised.

He told us about how he had never encountered teaching like that of Jesus, especially in the Sermon on the Mount. He told us that he saw Christianity treating women far better than Islam did. And then he told us a story.

‘Do you remember,’ he asked me, ‘when I asked you to pray for my baby boy back in Iran? Do you remember my wife had said he was ill, but the doctors could not make him better? And do you remember I asked you to pray for him?’

I did indeed remember. It had been a brief, matter-of-fact conversation at the coffee table after morning worship.

‘Did I tell you,’ he continued, ‘that after you prayed, my little boy got better?’

‘No, you didn’t tell me that,’ I replied with my jaw dropping. It had just been a short, simple, quiet prayer. Nothing dramatic.

‘So I know now that Jesus is real,’ he said, ‘and I want to follow him.’

We baptised him on Easter Day.

In conclusion, let me challenge you to cross some boundaries. Remember that in Jesus’ day Jews had nothing to do with Samaritans. What a good job Jesus ignored that custom.

Go and bless people across the boundaries.

And be prepared, when the opportunity comes, to tell them what your faith in Jesus means to you.

Because you don’t know just how much the Holy Spirit will use your witness.