The One Who Came Back: A Thanksgiving Lesson in Gratitude

Happy Thanksgiving week, everyone.

You know, if you're traveling this week, you're in good company. They're saying about 82 million Americans are hitting the road—traveling at least 50 miles from home. That's a lot of traffic, a lot of airport lines, and a lot of family reunions.

My family's part of that statistic. We've got relatives in Indiana, Arkansas, and here in Texas, so we're meeting in the middle—southwest Missouri. It's actually not a bad drive from here. You just head north through Oklahoma, cut through Arkansas, and you're there. Pretty straightforward.

But let's say—just for the sake of argument—that I had something against Oklahoma. I know, I know—I love Oklahoma. Great state, great people. But just imagine for a second that I was determined not to drive through it. Well, I'd have to go way out of my way. I'd drive all the way east to Texarkana, then head north through Arkansas, and eventually get to Missouri. I looked it up: that would add 113 miles and over two hours to the trip.

That would be ridiculous, right? I mean, how much would I have to hate Oklahoma to add that kind of time and distance just to avoid it?

Ancient Road Trips

Here's the thing: we're not the first people to take these kinds of holiday road trips. The Jewish people have been doing this for thousands of years. They had several annual feasts that required them to travel to Jerusalem—to the temple. It was a sacred obligation, something faithful Jews did multiple times a year.

Now, if you know your biblical geography, you know that at the time of Jesus, Israel was divided into regions. Jerusalem was in the south, in Judea. Jesus spent most of His ministry in the north, in Galilee. So for Galilean Jews like Jesus and His disciples, getting to Jerusalem meant quite a journey.

And here's where it gets interesting: right between Galilee and Judea was Samaria. Logically, if you're going from north to south, you'd just go straight through Samaria. That's the direct route. That makes sense.

But the Jews wouldn't do it. They despised the Samaritans that much. So instead of taking the direct route, they'd cross the Jordan River to the east, travel south along the eastern side, and then cross back over to get to Jerusalem. This added about 23 miles to the trip and turned a three-day journey into five days.

Now that sounds as silly as me avoiding Oklahoma, doesn't it? But that's how deep the hatred ran between Jews and Samaritans. They'd rather walk two extra days than have any contact with people they considered their enemies.

Jesus' Last Journey

Which brings us to today's text—Luke 17:11-19.

Jesus is making His way to Jerusalem for Passover. But this isn't just another pilgrimage. This is His last trip. He knows exactly what's waiting for Him there. He's going to be rejected by the religious establishment, betrayed by one of His own, arrested, tried, and crucified. This journey He's on? It's the road to the cross.

Now, most Jewish travelers would be taking that long detour we talked about—crossing the Jordan to avoid Samaria. But on this trip, something different happens. Jesus has an encounter that's going to teach us something profound about gratitude, about faith, and about what it really means to respond to God's grace.

Let me read you the passage. As I do, pay attention to who responds to Jesus and how they respond.

Luke 17:11–19 (NIV) — Now on his way to Jerusalem, Jesus traveled along the border between Samaria and Galilee. As he was going into a village, ten men who had leprosy met him. They stood at a distance and called out in a loud voice, "Jesus, Master, have pity on us!" When he saw them, he said, "Go, show yourselves to the priests." And as they went, they were cleansed. 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. Jesus asked, "Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the other nine? Has no one returned to give praise to God except this foreigner?" Then he said to him, "Rise and go; your faith has made you well."

Let's Set the Stage

Before we dive in, let me give you some context that'll help this story come alive.

First, we've already talked about the Jewish-Samaritan tension. The Samaritans were considered a mixed race—they'd intermarried with foreigners during the exile. They had their own temple on Mount Gerizim instead of worshiping in Jerusalem. They only accepted the first five books of Moses and rejected the rest of the Old Testament. These differences created a divide so deep that Jews would literally walk for two extra days just to avoid them.

Second, we need to understand what it meant to be a leper in this culture. The term "leper" actually covered all kinds of skin diseases, not just what we call leprosy today. Because these conditions were contagious—or at least believed to be—people who had them were quarantined. They were outcasts. They couldn't live with their families. They couldn't work. They couldn't worship in the synagogue. They lived on the margins of society, completely cut off from normal life.

Now notice where Jesus is in this story: He's traveling "along the border between Samaria and Galilee." He's in the borderlands, the in-between places where Jews and Samaritans might actually cross paths. And Jesus? He's open to it. He doesn't avoid these encounters like other Jews would.

This isn't the first time Luke shows us Jesus interacting with lepers either. Back in Luke 5, there's another leper who approaches Jesus, and you know what Jesus does? He reaches out and touches him. Can you imagine the shock on people's faces? Touching a leper would make you ceremonially unclean according to Jewish law. But Jesus does it anyway.

So it's clear: Jesus doesn't carry the same prejudices and resentments that many of His contemporaries had. He doesn't shut Himself off from people based on their race, their condition, or their social status.

And I think there's a lesson there for us, though that's really a sermon for another day. But let me just ask: Do we shut ourselves off from certain people? Do we avoid folks because of their race, their background, their social status, their politics? Jesus didn't. Just something to think about.

Now look at verse 14. Jesus tells these ten lepers to go show themselves to the priests. That's what the Old Testament law required—the priests would examine them, certify they were clean, and allow them back into society. But here's what's remarkable: the healing happens as they obey. They start walking toward the priests while they're still lepers, and somewhere along the way, they're healed.

There's another lesson right there—do we obey God first, or do we wait for Him to prove Himself before we'll step out in faith? But again, that's another sermon. Just let it sit with you for a moment.

Ten Healed, One Returns

Here's what I really want us to focus on: Jesus heals ten lepers. Ten men who were outcasts, suffering, cut off from everything they loved—all ten of them are completely healed. It's an incredible miracle.

But only one comes back to thank Jesus.

And here's the kicker: the one who returns is a Samaritan. The very person most Jews would have written off. The one they would have looked down on. The one they'd cross the street to avoid. He's the one who comes back.

Listen to Jesus' response: "Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the other nine?" You can hear the disappointment in His voice, can't you? It's not that He's angry, exactly. But there's this sense of something missing, something incomplete. Nine men got their healing and just moved on with their lives. One man understood that this miracle was about more than just getting what he needed.

So what made this guy different? What set him apart from the other nine who received the exact same healing, the exact same miracle, the exact same blessing?

And what does this teach us about thanksgiving? Not just the holiday we're celebrating this week, but real, transforming gratitude—the kind that changes us, that draws us closer to God, that makes us into different people.

How do we learn to see our blessings not just as things we've received, but as invitations into deeper relationship with Jesus? Because honestly, that's what this story is really about. It's not just about saying thank you. It's about recognizing where our blessings come from and letting that recognition transform us.

This Samaritan teaches us three things about how to be truly thankful. And I think they're things we need to hear, especially those of us who've been walking with Jesus for a while.

1. Be Humble

First thing: Be humble.

Look at how this man approaches Jesus. The text says he throws himself at Jesus' feet. This is complete humility. This is a man who recognizes Jesus as the source of the miracle and acknowledges that he didn't deserve it. He comes with no sense of entitlement, no claim on Jesus' power. He knows he's received pure grace.

Now, I'm speculating here, but stay with me: maybe the other nine felt entitled. And when we feel entitled to God's blessings, we start thinking that maybe it was some of our own merit that brought them about. We start believing the lie that we somehow earned what we received.

Think about it. Were the other nine Jewish? It's likely. And maybe that heritage, that sense of being God's chosen people, led them to believe they deserved this healing. "We're Jews. We're the covenant people. God's supposed to bless us, right?"

We do this too, don't we? Maybe not with ethnicity, but with our own spiritual résumés. "I tithe faithfully." "I serve in the church." "I've been a Christian for thirty years." "I pray every day." All of those things are good—don't hear me wrong. But if we're not careful, we start thinking God owes us something because of them.

Luke actually records another incident that speaks to this danger. Earlier in his Gospel, Jesus is teaching in His hometown of Nazareth, and they reject Him. And Jesus says something pointed: "I assure you that there were many widows in Israel in Elijah's time during a terrible famine, yet Elijah wasn't sent to any of them but to a widow in Zarephath—a Gentile. And there were many lepers in Israel in Elisha's time, yet not one of them was cleansed—only Naaman the Syrian."

Do you see what Jesus is saying? God bypassed all the "deserving" people in Israel and blessed foreigners instead. Why? Because the Israelites felt entitled. They thought God had to bless them because of who they were.

This healing of the ten lepers might be another warning along the same lines. When we feel like we deserve Jesus, when we think God owes us His blessing, we often miss out on the very thing we think we're entitled to. We can't even recognize it as a blessing because we think it's our due.

You know that expression people use: "He's really made something of himself"? That's actually a lie. Nobody makes something of themselves. You make something of what God has given you. Sure, some people don't use what God gives them—that's stewardship. But the raw material? That all comes from God. Your intelligence, your opportunities, your health, your abilities—none of that is self-generated.

True thanksgiving—the kind that transforms us—only comes when we maintain a posture of humility. When we recognize that everything we have, everything we are, everything we ever will be comes from God. All of it is grace. All of it is gift. When we really understand that, gratitude becomes as natural as breathing.

2. Give Thanks Quickly

Second lesson: Give thanks quickly.

The others did what Jesus told them—they went to show themselves to the priests. But this Samaritan couldn't wait. He had to come back first. Now, I'm sure he eventually went to the priest and fulfilled all the requirements of the Law. He did what was necessary to be declared clean and restored to society. But he thanked Jesus first. Before he did anything else. Before he forgot.

And that's what happens, isn't it? We get caught up in our blessings. We get busy enjoying what we've received. We tell ourselves, "I'll thank God later. I'll spend some time in prayer about that tomorrow. I'll journal about this gratitude when I have more time." And we genuinely mean it. But then life happens. Time passes. And we forget.

Have you ever done this? Someone gives you a gift, and you think, "I need to write them a thank-you note." And you fully intend to. But a week goes by. Then two weeks. Then a month. And suddenly you realize that now a note would actually be kind of awkward because it's so late. So you don't send it at all. And the gratitude that should have been expressed just evaporates into thin air.

Here's what I've noticed about myself, and maybe you can relate: I'm really quick to ask God for things. When I'm in trouble, when I need something desperately, when I'm scared or worried or desperate—I can't get to God fast enough. My prayers are passionate, intense, urgent. But when God comes through? When He answers that prayer, provides what I needed, does the thing I asked for? Sometimes I just whisper a quick "thanks" and move on.

We need to make it a habit to thank God immediately. Before life gets busy again. Before the crisis passes and we get distracted by the next thing. Before the urgency fades.

Thank Him before you rationalize away the blessing. You know how we do this, right? "Well, it was probably going to work out anyway." "I mean, the timing was good, but that's just how things go sometimes." "I worked really hard for this, so..."

Thank Him before someone else convinces you it was just luck. Before you start thinking it was the natural course of events. Before you convince yourself it was something you deserved anyway.

Thank Him before you forget that it was His hand at work in your life.

Some of you keep a gratitude journal, and that's great. Some of you incorporate thanksgiving into your daily prayers, and that's wonderful. Let me suggest something else: keep a running note on your phone. When God does something—big or small—write it down immediately and thank Him right then. Don't wait until your prayer time. Don't wait until you journal. Thank Him in the moment.

Paul tells us in 1 Thessalonians to "give thanks continually." This should be a regular practice, a spiritual discipline, a way of life. Not just on Thanksgiving Day. Not just when something major happens. Continually. Recognizing God's goodness in every moment, in every blessing, in every single breath we take.

Don't wait. Thank God now. Thank Him quickly. Thank Him often. Before you forget that everything good in your life comes from His hand.

3. Thank God Loudly

Third lesson: Thank God loudly.

This is interesting. Luke uses the same Greek word to describe both the lepers' cry for help and this man's expression of thanks. They called out in a loud voice when they needed healing. This Samaritan praised God in a loud voice when he received it.

We're really good at the first part, aren't we? When we're in trouble, when we need something desperately, we're not quiet about it. "God, please help me! God, I need You! God, if You'll just do this one thing..." We're bold. We're loud. We're passionate.

But when God comes through? When He answers our prayers, provides what we need, does something miraculous in our lives? We whisper a quick thanks and go about our day as if nothing remarkable happened.

I love it when I see athletes thank God after a game. Not just for the victory, but for the ability to play, for the joy of competition, for the opportunity. Some people roll their eyes at that, but I think it's beautiful. It makes me wonder: Would I be that bold? Would I be willing to publicly acknowledge God's goodness in my life when everyone's watching?

Let me ask you some questions, and these might sting a little: If someone observed your life for a week—or a month—would they describe you as a grateful person? Would they know you're thankful? Would they be able to tell that you have a relationship with God based on how you talk about Him?

Do people know how grateful you are to God? Or do you keep it hidden, locked away in your private devotional time?

Do you only thank Him behind closed doors, in your prayer closet, where nobody else can see or hear? Or does your gratitude spill over into your conversations, your social media, your daily interactions with other people?

Here's what I'm getting at: This Samaritan wasn't concerned about what people might think. He wasn't worried about being too loud, too emotional, too demonstrative, too religious. He'd been healed, and he wanted everyone to know who did it. He wanted everyone to hear his praise. He wanted the whole world to know that Jesus had changed his life.

What about us? When God blesses us, does anyone know it? Or do we keep our thanksgiving quiet, private, tucked away where it won't make anyone uncomfortable?

Now, I'm not saying we should be obnoxious about it. I'm not suggesting we become those people who spiritualize everything or turn every conversation into a testimony time. But I am suggesting that our gratitude to God should be visible enough that people notice it.

The Real Gift

So let me bring this together: Be humble. Be quick. Be loud. Those are the marks of a grateful person. Those are the characteristics that should define us as followers of Jesus, especially during this Thanksgiving season.

But here's what makes this story more than just a nice lesson about gratitude: This man had the joy of knowing that Jesus was the source of his blessing. And that changed everything.

You see, Jesus doesn't heal just to heal. He doesn't perform miracles just to fix our problems or make our lives more comfortable. He heals as an invitation to relationship with Him. Every blessing, every answer to prayer, every act of grace—it's God's way of drawing us closer to Himself.

And when we acknowledge that relationship—when we recognize Jesus not just as a miracle worker but as our Lord and Savior—everything shifts. We're reminded that we're loved. We're reminded that God cares for us deeply and personally. We're invited into deeper relationship with the One who made us, knows us, and loves us beyond measure.

Look at Jesus' final words to this grateful Samaritan: "Rise and go; your faith has made you well."

Now, pay attention here, because this is important: That word "well" is different from the word "cleansed" that Luke uses earlier in the passage. This word can mean "saved." It carries the idea that this man received more than just physical healing. He received salvation. He received eternal life.

The Message translation puts it this way: "Get up. On your way. Your faith has healed and saved you."

Do you see the difference? The other nine got what they came for. They were healed of their disease. They could go back to their families, return to their jobs, resume normal life. They got their bodies back.

But this one man—this humble, quick, and loud Samaritan—he got something more. He got Jesus. He got a relationship. He got salvation. He got eternal life.

This Thanksgiving

I hope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving this week. I hope you enjoy time with your family and friends. I hope you eat too much turkey and watch football and laugh until your sides hurt. I hope you count your blessings and recognize how much you have to be grateful for.

But here's what I really want you to understand: The real gift isn't the blessing itself. It's the source of the blessing. The real treasure isn't what God gives us. It's God Himself.

You know, for those of us who've been Christians for years, there's a danger. We can become so familiar with God's blessings that we forget to be amazed by them. We can get so comfortable with answered prayers that we stop being grateful for them. We can take for granted the very things that should fill us with wonder.

This Thanksgiving, may we be people who truly know the Blesser, not just the blessings. May we cultivate a relationship with Jesus that goes deeper than just asking Him for things. May we find our greatest joy not in what He does for us, but in who He is to us.

Because at the end of the day, that's what we should be most thankful for. Not just what God has done for us—though that's worth gratitude. But who God is to us. Our Savior. Our Lord. Our Friend. Our greatest blessing.

Before we sing, I want to give you a moment. Don't wait until you get home. Don't wait until your quiet time tomorrow morning. Right now, before you leave this building, before you check your phone, before you start thinking about lunch—take thirty seconds and thank God. Out loud if you want to, or quietly in your heart. But thank Him for one specific thing. Something He's done. Something He's given. Something He is.

Don't wait. Do it now.