A few months ago, when I was writing devotions for Lent, I came across a Thanksgiving story that I turned into a Christmas story … and now I’m turning back into a Thanksgiving story. Well, sorta. You be the judge.
The story is in Luke 17:11-19 and (oddly) it reminds me of being a parent at Christmas.
Jesus enters a village. Ten lepers call out for healing, and Jesus tells them to head toward church and they’ll be healed along the way.
The ten lepers do this, and all ten are healed, but only one of them returns to thank Jesus.
Jesus is happy to see the man but perplexed why the other nine didn’t return as well.
There are lots of reasons why this might be so — the story doesn’t really say. But most of us, especially cynical types like me, assume the nine other lepers are simply being ungracious.
But then I thought of Christmas.
Imagine a little boy ripping open presents on Christmas morning. Grandma always gives him the best gift, so he saves that one for last. As he tears the paper off, his eyes bug out. To his astonishment, Grandma’s gift is beyond his wildest hopes. It’s the greatest, most amazing gift ever.
He leaps to his feet and runs around the room, showing off his gift to his siblings and his cousins, and everyone gets an earful of excited chatter, whether they asked for it or not.
Finally, his mother manages to get his attention and whispers, “Go say thank you to Grandma.”
The boy realizes that, in his excitement, he’s forgotten her. Since he’s a good kid, he runs to Grandma and showers her with hugs and kisses and loud thanks.
Maybe, just maybe, all it would have taken for those other nine lepers to thank Jesus was a mother focused on appropriate thank-yous. Maybe the men were so excited to be healed they lost track of their minds, let alone their good manners. They were given a present so amazing that they went nuts, running around the living room … and thanking everyone but Grandma.
Maybe this Thanksgiving we should not only give thanks for all we have, but lovingly remind others to do the same.
Photograph from messymotherhood.com (which is an incredible domain name; I shoulda thought of it).