Gospel of Jesus Christ according to Saint Luke
At that time,
Jesus, walking towards Jerusalem,
crossed the region between Samaria and Galilee.
As he entered a village,
ten lepers came to meet him.
They stopped at a distance
and they shouted at him:
«Jesus, master,
"Have pity on us."»
When Jesus saw this, he said to them:
«"Go and show yourselves to the priests."»
Along the way, they were purified.
One of them, seeing that he was healed,
returned, glorifying God with a loud voice.
He fell face down at Jesus' feet
giving thanks to him.
Now, he was a Samaritan.
Then Jesus spoke, saying:
«"Were not all ten cleansed?"
Where are the other nine?
Among them was found only this stranger
to retrace his steps and give glory to God!»
Jesus said to him:
«"Get up and go; your faith has saved you."»
– Let us acclaim the Word of God.
Gratitude from abroad
Hallelujah. Hallelujah.
“Give thanks to God in everything, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”
Alleluia. (1 Th 5:18)
Brothers and sisters, we enter into this simple and astonishing mystery: ten cry out, ten are purified, only one returns; and that is the stranger. We carry this story into our today: the sidewalks of our cities, crowded waiting rooms, unread messages, notifications, and sighs behind screens. Between Samaria and Galilee, between periphery and center, between indifference and astonishment, we learn the road back, the step that turns back, the voice that becomes full again, the face that abandons itself to thanks.
“There was no one among them who turned back and gave glory to God except this foreigner!” And Jesus says to us: “Get up and go: your faith has saved you.”
The Word Today
The Lord walks toward Jerusalem. His trajectory is a line stretched toward total self-giving. We often walk toward our agendas. He crosses a border region, between Samaria and Galilee: a gray area, a void of mistrust, unfinished stories. This is not a postcard place; it is an in-between, a threshold. It is precisely there that supplication rises.
Ten lepers, separated by their illness, stopped at a distance, raise their voices: "Jesus, Master, have mercy on us." Jesus does not make scholarly analyses; he opens a path: "Go and show yourselves to the priests." They leave, and on the way they are purified. One stops, turns around, retraces his steps. He glorifies God with a loud voice, prostrates himself, and gives thanks. And he is a Samaritan, a foreigner. Jesus is astonished: "The other nine, where are they?" Then he pronounces the phrase that opens a horizon: "Get up and go: your faith has saved you."
Today, these verses invite us to three shifts: from distancing to crying out, from obedience to walking, from healing to thanksgiving. And to the heart: the discovery that gratitude often reveals itself in those we least expect.
Today's "lepers"
Leprosy isolated, scarred the body and reputation, and dug a ditch of fear. Our modern societies have their own forms of leprosy: they bear names that are no less frightening.
- Silent burnout, when the soul cracks and dignity frays.
- Hidden addictions, glued to screens, substances, approving glances.
- Depressions covered with a professional smile.
- Stifling debts that restrict breathing.
- Administrative insecurity: missing papers, suspended rights, heavy invisibility.
- Relational isolation in overcrowded metropolises.
- Chronic illnesses, where time becomes a waiting corridor.
- Discriminations that are repeated, stigmas that do not dissolve in good intentions.
From a distance, they stop again. They don't want to disturb, or they no longer believe they will be heard. Yet the cry continues to float: messages sent late at night, "Do you have five minutes?", "I can't do it anymore," "Jesus, Master, have mercy on us."
The Word does not promise instant solutions. It offers direction: “Go and show yourself…” Go toward what allows for the recognition of your dignity; advance in the light of a path; reconnect with a community, a body. A humble paradox: it is by walking that healing finds its way.
The path as healing
Healing doesn't wait for the arrival; it begins on the journey. It's not the magic of a moment, it's the fidelity of a step. Obeying the Word already sets things in motion: we step out of the circle, we enter a story, we allow ourselves to be joined by a promise.
- You call a friend after months of silence: already, a piece of loneliness falls.
- You make an appointment with the doctor you were dreading: already, the fear is losing its grip.
- You write an apology email: the shame is already less oppressive.
- You go to an administrative counter: your name is already audible in the city.
Christ often heals by sending us to mediations. He does not crush institutions; he restores them to their vocation: to recognize, reintegrate, and validate life. "Go show yourselves to the priests" today becomes: go to those who can attest that you have a place among us.
One stops, turns around, comes back
Christian astonishment lies in this reversal. In the midst of good news, a grace is kindled. A man perceives that he is not only relieved: he is reached, loved, lifted up. He understands that life is not a right, but a gift. He retraces his steps, because gratitude is not linear: it turns around, it returns to the source. And this source has a face.
To return is to recognize. To glorify is not to keep to oneself. To bow down is to consent to receive. To give thanks is to enter into the liturgy of the world, where everything comes and everything returns to the Father, through the Son, in the Spirit.
The text specifies: "Now he was a Samaritan." The Gospel educates us: the purest gratitude sometimes emerges from the margins. Those who did not possess the religious codes seem to better grasp the gratuitousness of God. The stranger is not folkloric; he is theological. He reveals that salvation extends beyond our borders.
The other nine
Let us not judge them too quickly. They obeyed. They continue towards the priests, perhaps in a hurry to find family, work, a name. They are not "ungrateful" in the moralistic sense; they are like us when the joy of obtaining something erases the source of the gift. They do not cause scandal; they live life that goes by quickly. The Gospel does not humiliate; it opens a breach: what if fullness consisted not only in feeling better, but in coming back to say thank you?
The distinction appears: all cleansed; one saved. Healing affects the body; salvation ignites the whole person. There is the end of exclusion, then there is entry into the covenant. Gratitude is this threshold.
The stranger today
Who is the stranger? Often, the one whose voice disturbs us because it doesn't use our words. The political, social, religious stranger. The one from the other ideological shore. The one who doesn't fit into our calendars. Sometimes the stranger is within us: the wounded, forgotten part, relegated to the back of a room.
- A migrant who, after a shared meal, says “thank you” with a clarity that loosens tongues.
- A teenager far from the Church who, by providing a service, marvels at being useful.
- A quiet colleague who sends a message of gratitude to the team and changes the atmosphere in an office.
- Muslim neighbor who brings cakes for a birth and teaches us the simple joy of blessing.
- An elderly person who, in the shadows, says silent thanks and keeps the city standing.
The stranger does not threaten us; he evangelizes us. He recalls the heart of the Eucharist: eucharistia, thanksgiving. Our Sunday liturgy is a school of thanksgiving, an education of the gaze, a conversation of all our gestures with the goodness of God.
"Your faith has saved you"
Jesus does not say, "Your merit has saved you," nor "Your righteous practice has saved you." He says, "Your faith has saved you." Faith, here, is not a theoretical examination; it is a movement: seeing, stopping, turning around, glorifying, giving thanks. Faith recognizes the origin: God. It recognizes the mediation: Jesus. It recognizes the horizon: the march continues, "goes." Gratitude does not confine; it relaunches.
We then learn a grammar of salvation. It is not about collecting divine interventions, but about entering into a relationship. Saying “thank you” to God does not flatter his self-esteem; it transforms our heart. We move from appropriation to reception, from tension to offering, from fear to trust.
Contemporary scenes
Let us imagine some places where this text takes shape.
- Hospital waiting room. A woman receives a reassuring result. She dials a number. She could run outside; she stops. She makes an almost timid sign of the cross and whispers, "Thank you, Lord." Another patient sees her and doesn't dare speak, but his heart relaxes. The thank you is missionary without noise.
- Open space. An employee regaining energy after months of exhaustion. Instead of losing himself in the flow, he sends a message of gratitude to the team, naming two concrete gestures received. The air changes; we breathe better. Thank you rehabilitates reality.
- Neighborhood office. An irregular immigrant finally gets a crucial appointment. She leaves with a temporary document. She could disappear, but retraces her steps, knocks gently on the door, and says, "I just wanted to say thank you. God bless you." The civil servant falls silent, touches her heart: there's more than a file. Thank you reforms a people.
- Churchyard. A man on the margins of the faith comes to request a late baptism. Welcomed, he leaves feeling at peace. The following Sunday, he returns not to complain but to praise. His voice is strong, a little clumsy, moving. The congregation understands: salvation is here.
- Family cooking. A teenager sets the table without being asked. As we sit down, the mother suggests, "Today, everyone says thank you." We laugh, we hesitate, we talk. The meal becomes a domestic eucharist.
Small gestures, great liturgy
Gratitude is not a soul supplement; it is a discipline. Just as one learns an instrument, one learns to thank.
- Three thanks a day. In the morning for what comes, at noon for what is being woven, in the evening for what has held.
- Recognition journal. Note two occurrences, however small: a word, a light, the smell of coffee, an unexpected message.
- Addressed thanks. Telling someone exactly what they brought. A vague thank you fosters politeness; a specific thank you fosters communion.
- Liturgy of the table. Before eating, a verse, a silence, a sentence: "We give you thanks, Lord, for this bread and for those who prepared it."
- Praise in the midst of adversity. Without saying that everything is fine, find a way out: "Thank you for N.'s presence, thank you for the strength to hold on today."
Thankfulness does not negate evil. It draws light into the cracks. It does not replace justice; it makes it desirable.
The stranger as master
From the Old Testament to the Gospel, the stranger teaches. Abraham welcomes three visitors; he receives the promise. The Samaritan in the ditch stops; he becomes neighbor. The stranger's Emmaus opens the Scriptures; our hearts begin to burn. In our world, tense with anxious identities, the stranger opens the house. He leads us back to the center: God is not jealous of our borders; he is jealous of our hearts.
- Welcome a story. Let someone tell where they come from, without correcting, without recuperating.
- Make an appointment. Gratitude grows with regularity: a shared soup every Thursday, a language workshop, a monthly common prayer.
- Receiving a gift. Not turning the other into a project; letting them do us good. Hospitality is reversed: I let myself be served.
The returning Samaritan is a “missionary of gratitude.” He proclaims: God has acted; Christ is worthy of praise; salvation is more than well-being.
Eucharist and life
Eucharistia: thanksgiving. The Mass makes us practice returning. We come with our weeks, our inner crowds. We confess, we listen, we offer, we receive, we are sent. The cycle is imprinted on us: recognize, give thanks, give of ourselves, leave again.
- Liturgy of the Word. We hear a voice that lifts us up, like the ten hearing “Go…”
- Offertory. We bring the road: fatigue, projects, proper names.
- Eucharistic Prayer. The Church blesses and gives thanks on behalf of all, even those who do not yet know how to return.
- Communion. We bow down inwardly, like the Samaritan, and receive the food of salvation.
- Sending. “Go”: gratitude and mission are inseparable.
Gratitude becomes a form of resistance. It resists narratives of lack, comparison algorithms, and cynical narratives. It is not naiveté; it is prophecy.
Exam practice
Let us practice a simple liturgy every evening.
- Make yourself present. Breathe in, breathe out, say: “Here I am, Lord.”
- Ask for light. “Holy Spirit, give me your gaze.”
- Reread the day. Look for traces: where was I purified? where did I receive? where did I give?
- Say thank you. Name without confusion. Stop, turn around, return to the source.
- Ask for forgiveness. Acknowledge the nine times I left and never came back.
- Beg for tomorrow. “Pick me up and send me.”
This exam does not weigh; it lightens. It prepares the thanks of tomorrow.
Gratitude and justice
It may be objected: gratitude is not enough; justice is needed. Exactly: gratitude opens our eyes to good, and therefore to injustice. It makes us more discerning in our actions. Thank you does not replace reform; it gives us the energy to desire it without hatred.
- In a team, establish a "thank you round" at the beginning of the meeting. Then, make a structural decision to relieve unfair pressure.
- In a parish, keep a "book of wonders" in which to record God's actions in lives. Then, open a listening and support center.
- In a city, celebrate a "Thankfulness Sunday" with other faiths and associations. Then, launch a joint integration project.
Gratitude is not a sedative; it is a leaven.
Suffer and give thanks
“Give thanks in all circumstances” does not mean “Give thanks for everything.” We do not give thanks for evil, violence, injustice. We give thanks because God remains God in the heart of evil, because sparks of goodness are ignited, because the cross does not have the last word. There is room for lamentation; it is not the enemy of thanksgiving, it is its sister. The psalms know this: praise often rises drenched in tears.
- In mourning, thanking for a date, a gesture, a sentence left like a furrow.
- When sick, thank someone for a caregiver, an improvement, a visit.
- In conflict, thank for a start of listening, a truce, a peaceful word.
Thank you is a breath of resurrection.
Testimonials
Marie, 42, says: “I had been through a year of fractures. One day, as I was leaving the office, the doctor told me: “The markers are good.” I felt like running. I stopped. I turned around and went into the local church. I hadn’t prayed for a long time. I sat down, I cried, and I said: thank you. Since then, I come back every week. I discovered the Mass: this prayer that makes thank you our breath.”
Omar, 27: “I was ashamed to ask for help. One evening, I wrote to my priest: ‘I need to talk.’ He wrote back. We met. I didn’t receive a miracle solution. But I did receive a walk. After a few weeks, I felt that something inside me was purified: the shame. I went back to see him, just to say thank you. He smiled and asked me: ‘Do you want to serve at Thursday soup?’ I said yes. It was my way of moving forward.”
Elise, 16: “I felt like an outsider. A friend dragged me to a vigil. I said I didn’t believe. At the end, I wrote on a small piece of paper: thank you for the light I saw. I was afraid of being seen as a hypocrite. I turned around and gave the piece of paper. That was my return. They told me: “Get up and go.” So I continued.”
Domestic liturgy
For a prayer with family, shared accommodation, or a group of friends:
- Opening song or simple chorus of praise.
- Reading: “There was no one among them except this foreigner…” The text of Lk 17, 11-19.
- Brief silence.
- Sharing: everyone names a thank you for the week and a “step to do”.
- Psalm of Gratitude: “Bless the Lord, O my soul” or a simple invented prayer.
- Intercessions: for today's "lepers", for strangers, for the nine who have not yet found their way home.
- Our Father.
- Action: Write a concrete thank you to someone; send it within the week.
- Sending Blessing: “Go, your faith has saved you.”
Prayer of Thanksgiving
“Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.
You heard the cry of our distances.
Along the way, you cleanse us of fear and shame.
We return to you, source of our joy.
Receive our humble and full thanks.
Make us strangers to resentment,
familiar with praise,
passers-by who connect,
witnesses who bow.
Lift us up, and say to our lives, “Go.”
For our faith — small but real —
find salvation in yourself. Amen.”
Culture of thanks at work
Gratitude can structure our professional spaces.
- Start meetings with a quick round of recognition: a fact, a name, a why.
- Build thanks into processes: thank the effort, not just the result.
- Cultivate kind feedback: tell the truth without crushing, name the good without flattering.
- Celebrate milestones: even modest ones, they become team memories.
- Honor an "outsider" in the service: an invisible profession, a partner, a maintenance agent. Give them a voice.
These gestures combat weariness and competition. They broaden the soul.
Thank you and digital
Our screens amplify voices; they can also amplify gratitude.
- Rule of 3 thanks: every day, three messages of recognition, public or private.
- Uplifting comments: naming what has nourished, avoiding irony and easy suspicion.
- Praise breaks: stop the algorithm for 5 minutes, read a psalm, breathe, give thanks.
- Notification Ecology: Protecting Spaces to Hear God and Hear Others.
Thank you keeps our fingers from throwing stones. It accustoms them to raising their hands in blessing.
Return and mission
The Samaritan returns to give glory and leaves sent. Thankfulness is not a stay; it is a bridge. Our world awaits bridges. Christian communities exist for this link: places where gratitude is celebrated, learned, and transmitted.
- Offer a monthly “thank you vigil”: testimonies, song, Word.
- Create a “wall of thanks” at church: post-its, drawings, intentions.
- Offer “gratitude cards” to distribute: one word, one blessing.
- Train “visitors of consolation”: listen, recognize, encourage to name graces.
Thank you, repeated, builds roads. And on these roads, strangers become brothers.
When I can't do it
There are days without. No words rise up. Thank you seems out of place. So, let us borrow the voice of the Church. The liturgy carries when I can no longer. A whispered "Hail Mary." A "Glory be to the Father." A lit candle. A "Kyrie eleison." The faith of the other carries me. The Samaritan who returns reminds me that Christ is there, even when my lips are silent. God knows the weight of my steps. He gathers my fatigue. And sometimes, against all odds, a tiny thank you sprouts. It is enough.
Threshold Theology
Between Samaria and Galilee. Between distance and proximity. Christ chooses the threshold to reveal salvation. Our lives are full of thresholds: beginnings, transitions, goodbyes. Thank you acts as a hinge. It closes one door without bitterness, opens another without excessive anguish. It preserves memory, without imprisonment.
- Thanks to a season: what I received, what I leave.
- Thank you to a person: what they did, what they taught me.
- Thanks be to God: for his patience, for his faithfulness that does not calculate.
This thank you does not erase the wounds; it incorporates them into the story of salvation.
The Question of Christ
"The other nine, where are they?" This is not a cold reproach; it is a question that seeks us out. Where am I today? Among the nine in a hurry, among the righteous in a hurry? Or among those who stop and return? Perhaps I am both, depending on the day. Christ, however, remains on the road, patient. He receives the stranger's thanks and, through him, renews the call to the nine: "Come back." The Church does not set up a camp of the deserving; she teaches how to turn back.
Concrete actions for the week
- Write a letter of gratitude to a living person who has changed your life. Read it to them if possible.
- Calling someone you've never explicitly said thank you to.
- Remember, each evening, three graces and a “return” to accomplish the next day.
- Offer a Eucharistic Thanksgiving during the week for a specific intention.
- Welcoming a stranger (in the broad sense): coffee, meal, walking, listening without an agenda.
- Slipping a thank you into an often aggressive digital space.
- Giving thanks to God in the midst of a trial: a single word can be enough.
Blessing
Lord Jesus,
You crossed our borders and joined us in our distances.
You heard the cry of the ten and received the return of one.
Teach us the art of thanking,
the science of turning around,
the joy of praise.
That the stranger, whom we meet and whom we are,
be our master and our brother.
Say to our lives: “Get up and go.”
And may your Word save us.
Brothers and sisters, let us accept this message: go, and wherever you go, let your first word and your last gesture be a thank you. The world will recognize a Church that remembers.
