(13th Sunday after Pentecost.)
“Were not ten cleansed? Where are the others now?” Luke 17:17.
Sorrow and pain resound from these words of the Lord. And they were so very much justified. Precisely these men, whom the Lord had healed from leprosy, were much more obligated to gratitude than others, because their illness was worse than all other illnesses.
Leprosy was the most terrible and dreadful of all diseases. One limb after another was seized by this disease, disfigured and exhausted. Healthy limbs rotted away. So severely did this disease disfigure the human body that a person became a ruin, a wandering corpse. But besides the terrible pains, those afflicted with leprosy also had to bear shame. For among the Jews, leprosy was considered a curse, and a curse for possible secret sins. Lepers were therefore considered marked by God, punished by God. Therefore, they were also cast out from among people as unclean. Separated from their own family, spouse and child, parents, sisters and brothers, they lived far from human dwellings, in caves and dens. Every treatment and medical help was lacking. And often even necessities of life were lacking, so that they not infrequently perished from hunger and destitution.
How great, therefore, was the Lord’s mercy when He offered His saving hand to these ten lepers, as He said to them: “Go and show yourselves to the priests!” And how great must have been the joy of these men when, on their way to the priests, they suddenly felt themselves healed! When the wounds closed, the pains subsided, and new life flowed through their limbs. Great was their joy, exceedingly great! And in their exceedingly great joy, they completely forgot their benefactor. They hurried, full of longing and joy, to their relatives and celebrated a feast of reunion and forgetfulness. Only one returned to the Savior and thanked Him, his benefactor.
One can understand the joy of those who were healed. One can also understand how joy and longing drove them towards their loved ones. Yet, one cannot remain silent about their ingratitude. Of course, the Savior did not curse them either. But for these ungrateful ones, the Lord’s word, full of sorrow and pain, rings out as an eternal shame: “Were not ten cleansed? Where are the other nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner!”
Alas, the Savior’s words could also apply to some Christians. Unfortunately, ingratitude is not just the world’s recompense. Many children of God also pay with this currency. Ingratitude and forgetfulness have practically become a law of the flesh, which also dwells deep within the members of Christians. While supplication and demanding from God are known, few experience gratitude and contentment. Humanity has become a joyless, discontented generation.
But what is the source of this discontent? Have living conditions truly become so unbearable? Certainly, there have been times when they were better. But haven’t there been even more times when they were worse? Did our ancestors have it as good as we do? How many comforts and amenities of life are offered to people today that our ancestors never even dreamed of. We live cleaner and more comfortably, eat better, travel faster, have opportunities for theatre, cinema, radio, and education, as well as entertainment options that former generations could not even conceive of. And yet we are discontent. Why? Because today’s person is no longer as connected to God. People of former times also worked, dressed, tidied their dwellings as best they could, ate, drank, and enjoyed themselves. But all these things were not the highest goods of life for them. Their highest goods were on a different plane, there where there was talk of God and the soul, of heavenly joy and sublimity.
Medieval man was still oriented towards eternity, and in the light of eternity, they lost their value
and the importance of earthly things. He gratefully received good things from God, but even earthly suffering did not separate him from God; even in this, he saw God’s providence. Thus, in joy and suffering, he believed in the rule of God’s merciful providence.
Modern man has partly lost the God-centered, theocentric concept of life, the direction towards God and eternity, has lost faith in God and His providence. Before, misfortune was also understood; people prayed to God for protection from lightning and storm, famine, flood, fire, and plague. Modern man does not know God; he wants to dictate divine providence himself. He found insurance against every misfortune, insurance against hail and fire, against sickness and danger. And then, when misfortune nevertheless came, peace of mind and happiness were also gone.
Previously, man’s gaze was directed towards God; now it is directed towards the earthly. Naturally, in his eyes, the values of earthly possessions now rise. Acquiring them is the goal of life. A bitter struggle for the treasures of this earth began. Before, in the unequal distribution of earthly wealth, the will of God, or at least His permission, was seen; now, in this, a glaring injustice was seen. The class struggle began between the wealthy and the propertyless… an angry, bitter struggle! Everyone wanted to share in earthly possessions. And then the earth became too small. Not that Mother Earth could no longer feed her many children, but that almost everyone desired a small globe as their own possession, that people’s needs have grown from possible to impossible, that people have become one
insatiable generation. They do not look gratefully at what they possess, but covetously at what is still missing, what they still want to acquire. There is not one in ten who would give glory to God, content with what he has.
Certainly, people also have trouble. But even if things went better for them, would they then be content? Only if they became believers again! Only if people in earthly wealth learn to recognize God’s gift, God’s good deed, again. Only if they again appreciate and cherish, more than earthly possessions, the blessings of the soul and the treasures of eternity. If this does not happen, then even better times will not make people more peaceful. Then they would not learn gratitude even then,
even if manna rained from heaven and wine flowed in wells.
First, one must renounce their insatiability for earthly possessions, their greed for the joys and pleasures of the world. First, they must learn again to value spiritual blessings more highly than material wealth. They must first learn again to see and seek their true happiness in God and in eternity. Then they will also learn to be content with what God has bestowed upon them. And contentment teaches them gratitude.
Church Life : Voice of Estonian Catholics ; September 1933, pp. 65-66