Posts Tagged ‘isolation’

Gratitude or salvation – the thankful leper

October 11, 2025

Pentecost 18 – 2025

Luke 17:11-19

Marian Free

In the name of God who leaves no one out and no one behind. Amen.

Ward 13 is the last remaining structure of the former Dunwich Benevolent Asylum on Stradbroke Island in Morton Bay. Stradbroke Island is 62 Kilometres from the mainland and 2 hours 8 minutes by boat. The Benevolent Asylum housed many different groups of people particularly those who were unable to support themselves for a variety of reasons – age, unemployment, illness or mental or physical disability. Immediately next to the Asylum and beside a swamp was a Lazaret – which housed men who were diagnosed with leprosy – a disease which, rightly or wrongly was deemed an incurable, communicable disease.

A visit to Ward 13 and the associated information centre reveals just how isolating and cruel the treatment of lepers used to be. A person, once diagnosed, was sent to Stradbroke (and later Peel) Island with no hope of ever returning home. A married man would never set eyes on his wife and children again. A child would be separated forever from her siblings and a mother from her children. Though the care of such people seems to have been reasonable, nothing would ever have made up for the stigma, the shame, the self-loathing, the pain, but above all the isolation and the sense of loss.

Leprosy which leads to the damaging of nerve endings and the disfigurement and subsequent loss of digits, hands, feet and even limbs is a dehumanising disease which for millenia created fear and disgust in the wider community. A leper not only had to deal with the disease and its consequences, but also with the reaction of those around them. In order to protect themselves, communities from ancient times have secluded and excluded not only those with the disease that we know to be leprosy, but also those with any form of obvious skin disease[1]. This is why the lepers in our gospel story this morning are keeping their distance from Jesus.

For obvious reasons, Jesus’ healing of the lepers is most often interpreted as a story of gratitude – the gratitude of the Samaritan in contrast with the apparent self-absorption of the nine. There are a few problems with this simplistic approach, perhaps the most serious of which is the implication that gratitude is an obligation. The idea that God demands our gratitude turns gratitude from a freely offered reaction to God’s love to a formal, superficial response. Gratitude that is not freely given is not really gratitude but rather the rote observation of a code of conduct. It does not come from the heart but is simply the fulfilment of an expectation. 

Another problem with an emphasis on gratitude is the implied judgement of the nine who did not return and the belief that Jesus’ comment is pejorative and judgemental. Certainly, Jesus expresses astonishment and perhaps disappointment that nine of the ten did not return, but after all they were doing what Jesus told them to do. 

Luke’s first readers will have noticed a number of other surprises that are at least, if not more, significant than gratitude or lack of it. Firstly, the one who did return was a Samaritan, a person who was doubly burdened by the disease and by his race, who was considered doubly unclean because of the leprosy and his exclusion from the religious practices of the Jews.  He was an outsider. He did not, could not belong.

Readers would also have been surprised that it was the Samaritan, a man who not Jewish by heritage, who was the only one of the ten to identify the hand of God in his healing and therefore the only one to recognise that Jesus was God, that is, the only one of the ten to demonstrate that he truly belonged in the family of God[2]

A third and perhaps the most important surprise for the first readers of this gospel would have been Jesus’ response to the Samaritan’s declaration. Here, unfortunately, our translation lets us down. The English usually reads: “Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.” This leads us to the conclusion that faith and wellness are connected and to the misconception that if only we have enough faith we will be made well. In fact, it is only after the Samaritan notices that he is healed that he understands that the one who made him well is God – his healing has led to faith, not the other way around. 

The Greek text makes more sense of this order of events. Jesus actually says: “your faith has saved you”. By identifying Jesus as God, the Samaritan has been saved from exclusion and has earned the salvation previously associated only with the Hebrews. In other words, the Samaritan’s faith has earned him a place in the people of God. The one who was doubly excluded – from his community and from God’s family has been doubly saved – restored to his family and friends and saved in the sense of becoming a child of God.

In my experience, it is much easier to construct a faith based on rules and expectations. Many of us want to know what to do and how to behave so that we can be sure to get it right.  Such a view can lead to rote performances of gratitude and praise, a desire to please instead of a wiliness to be pleased.

The Samaritan shows us that our sense of belonging depends not on timidly, fearfully doing things that might earn us God’s good favour, but by recognising that God’s abundant love is already poured out on us and responding freely and spontaneously with joyful gratitude and praise that springs from our wonder and delight at all that God does in and for us.

Let us not be tied down by rote observance of rules, but liberated to joyfully and gratefully praise the God who has already saved us.


[1] That “leprosy” included diseases which could be cured or could be temporary, is evidenced by the fact that those who were “healed” could be reinstated into the community if the priest gave them the all-clear.

[2] In fact, the Samaritan has a unique role in this gospel as he is the only one apart from Peter, who identifies Jesus as God, a point that is often overlooked. 

I have come to bring fire. Does Jesus divide families?

August 16, 2025

Pentecost 10 – 2025

Luke 12:49-59

Marian Free

In the name of God Earth-Maker, Pain-Bearer, Life-Giver. Amen.

On Thursday, (August 14) the church marked the Feast of the Twentieth Century martyrs. One of these was Manche Masemola from South Africa who at the beginning of  the century converted to Christianity against the wishes of her parents. When the medicine of a Sangoma (a traditional African faith healer) failed to undo the ‘spell” which her parents felt had her in its grasp, her parents murdered Manche. She was only 14 or 15 when she was killed.  Apparently, before she died, she had said that she “would be baptised in her own blood.” Manche was recognised as a martyr by the church in. South Africa within ten years of her death and she is one of the martyrs commemorated above the Great West Door of Westminster Abbey.

There were more martyrs in the 20th century than in any century prior and Manche’s story is far from unique. Pakistan for example, has strict blasphemy laws the punishment for which is death[1]. Christians can be accused of blasphemy by those who have a grudge against. Them and while the death sentence is rarely carried out by. the judiciary people often take the matter into their own hands, beating and sometimes killing those whom they believe have offended Allah. 

“I have a baptism with which to baptised!” Jesus declares this morning before he goes on to say: “Do you think I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division.”

Many people today find these words of Jesus deeply disturbing and out of sync with their understanding of a Jesus who heals and forgives faith which provides comfort and assurance.  The problem is that we read this passage from the perspective of a faith which, in the West at least, has been the predominant faith for close to seventeen centuries and which, since its adoption by Constantine as the religion of the state has come to be almost indistinguishable from many of the communities in which it finds itself. (Sometimes it is difficult to determine which societal values have been influenced by the Christian faith and which Christian values have taken on attributes of the society in which it finds itself.)

In the ancient world it was very different. No one was born a Christian – they had to convert.  Conversion often came at a great cost – loss of family and friends, loss of income and the attendant loss of social status. Members of the Christian community were frequently ostracised by friends and family and harassed by neighbours and fellow citizens.[2] To those in the Greco-Roman Empire, worshipping the local gods built community – everyone participated in the local festivals, ate at the local temples and so on. A Christian could no longer join in the festivities or eat food sacrificed to idols and thus could be seen as a source of social division. Further, local gods were understood to protect the community, so refusal (by the newly converted) to worship the gods put the whole community at risk. Likewise, a refusal to worship the Emperor would place the whole community in jeopardy. A Christian who refused to worship the local gods, and who was opposed to Emperor worship was seen as endangering the whole community. Christians were not a seen as a benign presence but as a very real threat to the safety and stability of the community in which they found themselves. They would have found themselves resented at best and reviled and “persecuted” at worst. 

A further cause of isolation and deprivation for a convert was the inability to work. Tradespeople had to belong to a guild, and guilds were associated with a particular god and temple. Christians, being unable to participate in temple worship, were excluded from the guild and often found themselves unable to work. On top of the social isolation and harassment, converts experienced unemployment and therefore no income.

For the same reasons, families were divided when a family member converted to Christianity. Believers were no longer able to participate in family events (usually associated with religious festivals) and they were deemed to be troublemakers because of their refusal to conform to local norms and to behave in ways that protected the city.

The situation was only slightly better for those who converted from Judaism, but they too found themselves cut off from family and friends who did not agree that Jesus was the Christ. 

“From now on five in one household will be divided, three against two and two against three; they will be divided:

                  father against son

                                    and son against father,

                  mother against daughter

                                    and daughter against mother,

                  mother-in-law against her daughter-in-law

                                    and daughter-in-law against mother-in-law.”  (Luke 12:53)

Words that are shocking and confrontational to us, were simply expressing the reality of the time, and for many in the world today, expressing the reality of our our own time. According to a study carried out by the House of Commons last year, one in seven Christians in the world is persecuted. [3] In many places, making an active decision to follow Jesus still comes at a great cost. Conversion divides families (even communities), leads to social isolation and in the worst case scenarios can result in death.

When Jesus says that he has come to bring fire to the earth, he is simply stating what he knows to be true – that the message he brings is dangerous and will be divisive and that those who accept the gospel will be considered as dangerous troublemakers by many and will suffer the consequences.

In our cosy “Christian” world it can be difficult to understand that faith in Jesus is dangerous and costly, hard to grasp that something that (to us) as socially acceptable as holding the Christian faith could cause our friends and neighbours to see us as a threat. It is impossible for us to associate baptism with Jesus’ wish to bring fire to the. earth [4], but this is a reality for many and should challenge us to not only think of those who suffer for their faith, but to ask ourselves whether or not we have in fact become too comfortable.


[1] To discover which countries have made conversion illegal, and in which countries Christians are persecuted check this link https://worldpopulationreview.com/country-rankings/countries-where-christianity-is-illegal..

[2] Paul speaks about being persecuted, but. there was no state censured persecution till much he is probably referring to isolation and harassment.

[3] https://commonslibrary.parliament.uk/research-briefings/cdp-2024-0017/#:~:text=1%20in%207%20Christians%20are,fragile%20states%20to%20support%20FoRB

[4] Jesus here, is probably looking forward (not in a positive sense) to his crucifixion and wishing that ti could be over and done with. It would not be unrealistic for those undergoing persecution to apply these. Words to thm

True blessedness

February 12, 2022

Epiphany 6 – 2022
Luke 6:17-26
Marian Free

In the name of God, Creator, Redeemer and Sustainer. Amen.

At the end of last year, at a time when there was a great panic about Rapid Antigen Tests, I bought a pack online. Later, when it seemed as though such things were going to be impossible to obtain I thought that as the first purchase had been so straight forward I should buy some more. After all, I was going to be responsible for babysitting all the grandchildren whose parents might be comforted in the knowledge that their children were unlikely to contract the Omicron variant of COVID as a result of being in my care. If I had any symptoms I could simply do a test! Now that the peak of infections has passed, children are eligible for vaccinations and restrictions are being eased I find myself in the embarrassing possession of unused RATS.

Today’s gospel has given me a great deal of cause for thought about my behaviour and its significance. I find myself asking whether my need was really so great that I needed to purchase so many tests? As it turns out, I haven’t benefitted from having them. In retrospect I now understand that it is possible that someone missed out because I was in a position – financially and otherwise – to ensure that I was covered. In my anxiety to protect myself and my family I had failed to consider the consequences to others if I had more than necessary and what I might do with more than enough.

One of the problems in managing the pandemic world-wide has been this sort of self-centred, nationalistic approach to the situation. In January 2020, the WHO made it clear to an anxious world that a universal rather than local tactic would bring the pandemic to an early end. WHO urged first world nations to ensure that all nations have equal access to vaccines so that we could knock the virus on its head and avoid the long-drawn out consequences of new variants emerging. Yet, while the situation has been made more complex by a number of other issues, by and large, those nations who could afford to purchase the vaccines have ensured that their nations have had enough (more than enough) to go around, while third-world nations have gone without.

In today’s gospel, Jesus speaks directly to this problem – the problem of who we are, on what do we base our identity and where do we fit in the world? In essence, Jesus is encouraging his listeners to ask themselves who they are and on what basis have they come to that conclusion? Against whom and against what do the disciples measure themselves and with and to whom are they connected?

The Beatitudes, whether pronounced on the mountain as in Matthew, or on the plain, as here in Luke, are in direct contradiction with what is normal human nature – the drive to survive at all costs, to avoid pain and suffering and to compare our situation against that of others. Jesus confronts our idea of is what “normal” and insists that an individualist focus and individualist behaviours will take us down the path of woe and not of blessing. In other words, he is suggesting that focussing on ourselves and on our own well-being is harmful not only to those around us, but also to ourselves. If we are driven by our own need for satisfaction and comfort, if we spend our lives trying to avoid suffering and pain and if we amass more than we really need, the consequences will not be blessedness, but will be isolation from others, indifference to the experiences of others and, ultimately, the cause of hurt to others. Furthermore, self-reliance, the belief that we can shield ourselves from harm, is futile. None of us, no matter how rich or privileged can escape the traumas and accidents that life throws at us.

In naming who is and is not blessed Jesus is challenging those things that collectively we have accepted as identity markers and has shown how ineffectual and self-centred they are and how they disconnect us from our fellow human beings. It is only when we truly understand the interconnectedness between ourselves and every other person (dare I say every other living thing), that we will begin to understand that our contentedness and sense of well-being is tied to the well-being of others. We will never be truly blessed if our blessedness comes at the expense of someone else’s blessedness and we will never be truly at peace if our idea of peace comes at the cost of competition – for resources or for security.

Jesus’ words are not easy to hear, let alone act upon. Most of us find it hard to let go of the need to quantify his words/our situation. How poor do we really need to be? we wonder. Does Jesus really intend us to be destitute, starving, and grief-stricken and if so what sort of life would that be? In asking such questions, we fail to see is that Jesus is not suggesting that we develop a scale against which to measure ourselves, but that we enlarge our thinking such that our concept of blessedness embraces the totality of our experiences (good, bad and indifferent) – all of which enrich and enhance our lives. At the same time, Jesus knows that once we are able to dispense with a scale of “blessedness”, we will be open to see how our blessedness is tied up with the blessedness of every other person in the world.

The Beatitudes are anything but comfortable words – especially for those of us privileged enough to live in a nation such as ours. Jesus’ words are designed to stretch and challenge us and – God forbid! – change us. We do not have to make ourselves poor, hungry or sad, but neither should we shy away from such experiences for it is they that form us and humble us and unite us to every living person and ultimately to the one who created us all.