On this thanksgiving Sunday, our Gospel reading is all abut gratitude – about taking the time to say, "thank you" and the difference that will make in your life.

We find the improbable and the unexpected in our story.

This group of ten lepers is composed of Jews and Samaritans. We know well that Jews despised Samaritans. The people of Samaria were the product of the marriage of a Jew and a Gentile, neither wholly one nor the other and thus despised by both.

Yet, there they are, traveling together, drawn to one another by their common affliction – leprosy - a horrible disease, that disfigures the body and turns the afflicted into an outcast, unwelcome in society, feared by all.

Isn’t it interesting how adversity can draw us closer to one another? An earthquake, hurricane, fire, flood or war seems to cause us to reach across the many barriers which, in good times, separate us. Perhaps that is where we find blessing when our lives are devastated by traumatic events. Those barriers of race, creed, class or ethnic origin disappear when we no longer have the luxury to observe them.

The barrier of prejudice against Samaritans quickly disappeared for this group, drawn together by leprosy.

But this improbable group separates again once their leprosy is cured. Only one, a Samaritan, returns to thank Jesus, a Jew, for his healing. Was he the only Samaritan in the group? Is that why he quickly became separated from the other nine?

Or was it, that he was the only one with gratitude in his heart?

Perhaps, that is why Jesus said to him, "Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well."

Faith and gratitude – where one is, there also is the other.

So much comes to us through faith that we cannot help but be grateful.

As we celebrate with family and friends this weekend, we have so much for which to give thanks:

• Those people with whom we celebrate and share a meal
• This wonderful country in which we live
• This most spectacular of fall seasons
• The joy of being a part of a faith community that is supportive and loving towards one another
• The gift of time – time to live, time to share our love for one another, time to give back some of what we have been given
• And the greatest gift of all – God’s great love for us, through God’s son, Jesus Christ.

Gratitude and faith – forever linked together.

We can all imagine ourselves as like that one leper, that Samaritan who returned to Jesus, but if we are to be honest with ourselves, at times we are more like the nine.

It is easy to say "thank you" to a store clerk, a co-worker, even a stranger, but sometimes the big "thank-you’s" come less easily to our lips. We hold back perhaps without even knowing why. Is it pride or stubbornness or embarrassment that keeps those words from our lips? We’ve all experienced that moment when we should have expressed gratitude but held back – and now it seems like its too late.

A few weeks ago, I talked about forgiveness, and gratitude is much the same. Sometimes it seems jut too hard to say the words, be they "I forgive you", "Please forgive me" or simply, "thank you".

Milton Schwartzentruber, for many years the editor of the journal, Aha!, one of my favourite resources, tells the following story of himself:

On July 9, 1990, a young woman died. I don’t know her name. I don’t know what she looked like – although I am fairly certain she was beautiful in more ways than one. In fact I don’t know anything about her, except that she was 23 years old and that she died of a brain aneurysm.

The only reason I know even this much, he goes on, is because on July 10, 1990, I received her lungs.

Oh yes. I know one other thing, although I’m not proud of it. I know that I’ve never said thank you to her family, to those incredibly kind and generous strangers who saved my life, even as they lost hers.

Don’t misunderstand. It’s not that I’m not grateful. Hardly a day goes by that I’m not consciously aware of what I’ve been given. I’ve thanked God many times over, but never this young woman’s family. And I ask myself, why is that? Why is it so hard to say thank you for this gift? This gift which above all others deserves recognition.

At first, he writes, perhaps, I wasn’t sure that I was grateful. The gift of life –not the lungs – came with a price tag. Four months of literal blood, sweat, and tears. Four months of fighting for life, wondering, sometimes why I bothered. Was the fight even worth winning anymore? In my doubt and despair, the word of thanks simply would not, could not come.

Later, I knew I would survive. Health returned, and with it gratitude. And another problem. How does one say thank you for life? The gift is too great –0 words, too small, too inadequate….

Time passes. Now my silence becomes embarrassing. I’ve waited too long. What will they think? Better never than late…..

The thought keeps returning. I know I have to do this. But surely they don’t expect a letter now. They probably don’t even want a letter now. It would only serve to reopen old wounds, to make them relive painful memories….

And that’s how it happens. Or rather, that’s how it happened. That’s how I became one of the nine lepers who were healed, but who never returned to say thank you.

Sometimes, he concludes, I think, what’s the big deal? I’m grateful. Isn’t that enough? Why this need to say it?

Yet even as I ask the question, I begin to understand. Unexpressed gratitude, like unexpressed love, eventually withers and dies. If you don’t express gratitude, eventually you lose the ability to be truly grateful - for anything. Your vision changes. You can’t see anything to be grateful for.

Gratitude really is a lot like love. It’s one of those things that if you give it away, you end up having more.

But there’s more. Because love and gratitude aren’t’ just like each other. They’re connected. They’re part of each other. When I say thank you, I recognize not only the gift, but the giver as well. Any time I truly recognize another human being and the gifts they bear, I perform an act of love and a small part of me is healed.

He concludes,

Love and gratitude. Both together. Both necessary for life…

Until I say thank you, I will never be truly whole.

Schwartzentruber concludes his story, "Excuse me, I have a letter to write."

If you have a letter to write or a phone call to make, remember that it is never too late.

Think back to the parable we read last week – about the patient vineyard owner who tried again and again to reconcile with his tenants. Our God is a persistent and patient God, one who will wait, in hope, to hear "thank you" and who will rejoice in the hearing.

Saying "thank you" – a gift of love, a gift of gratitude and faith, a most precious gift.

Thanks be to God who rejoices in our faithful gratitude.

Amen