The Gratitude That Makes Us Whole (Ashtabula)

I. The Gathering

Welcome & Announcements

Pastor: Good morning, everyone, and a warm welcome to Ashtabula First United Methodist Church. Today, we're focusing on The Gratitude That Makes Us Whole—a message about how thanking God completes the work of grace in our lives. Now, let us rise in body or spirit as our prelude begins. I invite our acolyte, Jeff, to bring forth the light of Christ to our altar as we begin our worship service.

Prelude

Call to Worship

Leader: People of Faith, come and see what God has done!

People: God has guided us and walked with us.

Leader: See how God has protected us.

People: God has brought us to this sacred space.

All: Let us give glory to God!

Opening Hymn "We Thy People Praise Thee" (UMH 67)

Opening Prayer

Holy One, we gather to sing your praises! We are grateful for the gift of this day and all the ways you make your presence known. Restore our souls and heal us. May our time with you deepen our faith, so we may share your love and grace with everyone we meet. In the name of Christ, we pray. Amen.

II. The Word

Scripture Reading 1: Luke 17:11–19

Hymn of Response "We Would See Jesus" vs 2-5 (UMH 451)

Scripture Reading 2: Psalm 66:1–12

Sermon: The Gratitude That Makes Us Whole

Good morning. I want to start by asking about a profound difference between two simple words: Healing and Wholeness. We know what healing is. If you break your leg, a doctor fixes it, and it heals. If you have an argument with a friend, you apologize, and the wound heals. Healing is a wonderful, necessary thing, but it is often just a physical or emotional repair, allowing us to go back to the way things were. It’s a restoration of function. But wholeness is something deeper. Wholeness is when the healing not only repairs the damage but transforms your very being, moving you to a completely new place in your relationship with God and with the world. It is a spiritual and relational restoration. Our Gospel today, the story of the ten lepers, is one of the clearest parables Jesus tells about the difference between these two words, healing and wholeness. It is a story about a life-changing miracle, and the one question Jesus asks that sits like a hanging question mark over our own lives: “Where are the other nine?”

I. A Common Disease, A Common Miracle: The Tragedy of Haste

The story begins with ten men. Ten people who shared a common, agonizing fate: leprosy. In Jesus’s time, this wasn't just a physical disease; it was a religious and social death sentence. It meant mandatory isolation. It meant living in dread. It meant absolute separation from family, work, and community worship. These ten men—Jews and a Samaritan, who were normally bitter enemies—were united solely by the absolute desperation of their illness. Their pain was their only bond. When they see Jesus, they keep their distance, as required by law, and they cry out with a common, simple prayer: "Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!" Jesus’s response is immediate and profoundly gracious. He doesn't need a spectacle. He simply gives them a command: "Go and show yourselves to the priests." This was the step required by Moses’s Law for a priest to officially declare a leper clean (Leviticus 14). By sending them to the priests, Jesus is essentially guaranteeing them immediate reinstatement into society. And here is the beautiful part: "And as they went, they were made clean." All ten men, equally desperate, equally obedient, and equally healed. All ten received the healing they asked for. Their skin was restored. They got their jobs, their families, and their places in the temple back. They received everything they needed to go back to their old lives. This was a life-changing miracle for all of them, delivered by nothing more than God’s grace and their obedience to a simple command.

For the nine, that moment of healing unleashed an overwhelming, justifiable burst of haste. Imagine the rush of emotion: they ran toward the priests not just for certification, but for the reunion with the lives they had lost—the embrace of a spouse, the sight of their children, the dignity of earning a living. Their joy was entirely focused on the past—on reclaiming the "old life" that had been taken from them. They viewed Jesus as a wonderful benefactor, whose job was now complete. They confused restoration with salvation, thinking the physical repair was the final stop on the journey of grace.

But their haste cost them the most precious gift of all. They kept their gaze fixed on the goal (reinstatement) and rushed right past the Source. The nine were given a miracle so they could go back to their communities, but they failed to bring their grateful heart back to the Master. This subtle omission is the tragedy Jesus highlights. They mistook the miracle, which was an invitation to a whole new identity, for a simple transaction. They got the healing, but they missed the wholeness. The Samaritan, in contrast, shows us that the journey of grace is not complete until we stop running toward the past and turn around toward the Giver.

II. The One Who Returned: Overcoming Spiritual Blindness

But that is where the similarity ends. And this is where the profound tragedy of the nine begins. The text says that "one of them, when he saw he was healed, came back, praising God in a loud voice. He threw himself at Jesus' feet and thanked him—and he was a Samaritan." Ten men received a miracle. Only one returned to give thanks. And Jesus’s question rings across the centuries, landing right here in our sanctuary today: "Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the other nine?" This question is not meant as a scold. It's meant as a surgical insight into the human heart. Jesus isn't upset that he missed out on a "thank you." He is pointing out the profound tragedy of the nine who only received a physical healing and missed the chance for spiritual wholeness. What happened to the nine? They were victims of haste and spiritual blindness. They took the gift and ran. They viewed the miracle as a transaction—an exchange for their prayer and their obedience. They treated God like a vending machine: 'I put in the prayer, I got the healing, now I’m done.' They were so focused on the utility of the gift—getting their old lives back—that they completely missed the presence of the Giver who stood before them. Their healing was complete, but their relationship with the source of life was cut short by their haste, their expectation, and their subtle sense of entitlement. We see this same haste in our own lives, don't we? When a health crisis passes, we rush back to our busy schedules. When a financial burden is lifted, we rush back to our habits of consumption. We use God’s deliverance as a means to return to the old life that often caused the problem in the first place. The nine were so eager to resume their lives without leprosy that they failed to consider a life with God. They were still living by the old checklist—show yourself to the priest—and failed to see the Christ who stood before them, who was the fulfillment of the Law. Their faith had simply run its course.

But the one who returned—the outsider, the despised Samaritan—received something far deeper. He was free from the spiritual debt the others carried. When he saw what had happened, he literally turned around (a powerful biblical word for repentance) and worshipped. His act wasn't just a polite gesture; it was an act of total submission and gratitude. He recognized that the Giver of the gift was more important than the gift itself. He grasped that his freedom was not just physical, but relational, and he made the Giver the center of his new life. His gratitude wasn't just a thank you; it was a fundamental reorientation of his heart, a complete and total submission to the Master who had shown him mercy. He stepped out of the old transactional system and into a relationship of profound, unmerited love.

This return to Jesus was a theological epiphany. The nine understood the law; they understood what to do. But the Samaritan understood Who had done it. The nine rushed toward the validation of the legal institution; the Samaritan rushed toward the intimacy of the Master. His spontaneous, heartfelt worship, done in a loud voice, was the ultimate sign that he had exchanged his religious checklist for a deep, personal connection.

Think also of the radical courage of this act. He was a Samaritan, an outsider, and his worship—prostrating himself at Jesus’ feet—was a public, undeniable testimony. He shattered all social and religious boundaries for the sake of giving thanks. He was so overwhelmed by grace that his gratitude broke the chains of prejudice. The others may have been physically cleansed, but this man's act of gratitude gave him a new identity that was bigger than his former status as a leper or his identity as a despised Samaritan.

III. The Wholeness of Gratitude: A Eucharistic Life

And Jesus’s final word to him is the key to our entire theme: "Get up and go; your faith has made you well." The Greek word Jesus uses here for "well" is sesōken. This word does not just mean "healed." It means "saved," "delivered," or "made whole." The other nine were merely cleansed (katharizō); they were repaired for this earthly life. But the Samaritan was made whole (sesōken). The nine were healed from leprosy; the one who returned with gratitude was saved from spiritual blindness and the curse of indifference. He received not just a temporary fix for his body, but an eternal transformation of his soul. The final act of gratitude—the intentional returning to worship and acknowledge God's providence—is what completed the work of grace in his life. Gratitude wasn't a condition for the miracle; it was the vessel that allowed the miracle to transform his soul. It was the crucial spiritual step that moved his relationship with God from a simple transaction to a deep, abiding connection. This is the Gratitude that Makes Us Whole. It is the recognition that every good thing in our life—our health, our job, the roof over our heads, the love of this church family—is an unmerited gift from God. And this grateful memory transforms our entire perspective on our lives. This grateful heart is what anchors us through trial. The Psalmist (Psalm 66) understood this when he sang praise because God had been faithful, bringing the people through the fire and the water (Psalm 66:12) to a place of abundance. He remembered the hardship. He remembered the deliverance. His praise was the testimony of a life made whole, a life that can find joy not because the fire is gone, but because God was faithful in the fire. Gratitude is the engine of our endurance, the constant reminder that God is for us, even when life is hard.

This grateful memory isn't just for the good times; it's our engine for endurance. The Psalmist looked back and remembered God leading them directly "through fire and through water" to a place of "abundance" (Psalm 66:12). That fire and water weren't comfortable—they represent real, agonizing trials. For us today, the fire may be anxiety over an uncertain future, the stress of caring for an ailing family member, or the water may be the constant torrent of bad news and conflict that leaves us feeling emotionally exhausted. Gratitude anchors us by refusing to let our current struggle define God's fidelity. It is the constant practice of testifying that, because God brought us through the last fire, He will be faithful in the next.

This remembrance is the source of our wholeness. The nine lepers only remembered their suffering; the one Samaritan remembered his Savior. When we practice intentional gratitude—when we pause to name and acknowledge the blessings in our lives—we are actually performing a powerful act of spiritual sanity. We are training our hearts to remember God's presence during the trial, not just after it. We recognize that God is not just the repairman who fixes our skin, but the faithful Host who sits with us in our suffering. This changes the core narrative of our lives from one of being a victim of circumstance to one of being a beloved recipient of grace, capable of enduring anything because our story is ultimately held in God’s hands.

This wholehearted gratitude is what John Wesley called the eucharistic life—a life of thanksgiving that leads directly to social holiness. Our wholeness is not complete until we use our healing to serve the world. When we return to God to say "thank you," we are filled up, and that overflowing gratitude then propels us outward to meet the needs of the nine still wandering, still physically healed, but spiritually blind. The truly whole person is the one who sees the needs of others. Our gratitude must become the healing balm we share with the nine still wandering in haste, healed but not whole, desperately needing a witness to point them back to the Source.

The gratitude that makes us whole is the faithful act of returning to God, acknowledging every blessing, remembering every deliverance, and letting that grateful memory transform our heart and send us back into the world to love and to serve. Amen

III. Response and Intercession

Anthem

(No communal sharing in this section for Ashtabula First.)

Pastor: Before we turn to our offering, we pause to lift up the needs of the world in prayer. I invite you now to enter into a moment of silent intercession, gathering the joys, burdens, and unspoken concerns of your own heart and the needs of our city and the wider world. (Silent reflection.)

Pastoral Prayer & The Lord's Prayer

Pastor: Holy God, we come to you with grateful hearts, praising you for the healing and wholeness you have given us. We lift up the people of Ashtabula and all those who, like the nine lepers, have been blessed but still struggle to find their way home. Grant us the eyes to see the suffering at our gate—the lonely, the anxious, and the poor in our community. Strengthen our faith, that we may use our wholeness to extend healing and grace to others. Gather all these prayers, O God, and receive us as we pray the prayer our Savior taught us: All: Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name... (The Lord's Prayer - In Unison.)

IV. Offering and Dedication

Pastor: Our offering is our tangible act of returning to God in worship. It is the grateful recognition that all good gifts come from the Divine Host, and it is a commitment to the "eucharistic life."

Offertory

Doxology Pastor: As the gifts are brought forward, please rise in body or spirit as we sing our corporate praise. Praise God, from whom all blessings flow; Praise him, all creatures here below; Praise him above, ye heavenly host; Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.

Prayer of Dedication

Pastor: Gracious God, accept these offerings as our act of returning to you with thanks. Bless these gifts, and use them to extend your healing and wholeness to the world, transforming the work of our hands into the eucharistic life of your church. Amen.

V. Sending Forth

Pastor: We have returned to God with our thanks and commitment. Now, let us stand and sing the promise of our faith in our closing hymn.

Closing Hymn "Lord of The Dance" (UMH 261)

Benediction

Pastor: Go now, and live a life of constant gratitude. May the wholeness of Christ that you have received through faith fill your hearts, transform your vision, and send you out to serve a world in need. Amen.

Postlude

(Acolyte carries the Light of Christ out during the Postlude)