One In Ten

It's always a little difficult to judge the work of God during a worship gathering. Hands can be down and mouths shut and the Spirit can be unleashing a brand new work in someone's heart.

I know, I've been there.

And yet, when I scan the posture of my congregation on most Sundays I still can't help but wonder where the zeal for the Lord has gone.

I know God's up to good in so many lives. He's slowly but surely growing the church. He's restoring relationships, He's convicting us, confronting us, comforting us, and healing us. We don't have a lack of testimony.

Yet only a small few seem to want to thank Him in a demonstrative way.

Luke tells of a time in Jesus' ministry where He encountered the same phenomenon. He was walking between Galilee and Samaria when He happened upon a leper colony. Ten tormented, isolated and hopeless men all asked to be healed and Jesus graciously obliged—

When he saw [the ten lepers], 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.”

Luke 17:14-19 | NIV

Only one man in this group of ten—who all received the miraculous gift of a lifetime—was compelled to return, throw himself at His feet, and give Him the honor and thanks He was most certainly due.

The other nine kept walking.

Even though they received the same healing as the one, the nine decided instead to take their newly granted health back to the priest, their homes, and their work.

All ten men worshipped. 

Only one worshipped Jesus.

The rest put more worth in their status, their relationships, and their jobs. They took their healing and ran first towards the earthly benefits of their miracle rather than letting the miracle deepen their relationship with their Healer. And though the nine may have been given the lawful clearance to return to their normal life through the earthly priest, only one got to encounter the heavenly Priest.

Let's carry this idea back into our churches today.

I do genuinely desire to see my congregation more demonstratively zealous for the Lord. But not for any other reason than what this one Samaritan became aware of—when we truly behold who it is we just encountered, there is no other right response.

Like the nine, so many of us take our forgiveness (a cleansing way more significant than leprosy) and simply return to our homes, our jobs, our hobbies, and our friendships. We have a sense of gratitude for the gift we received but don't have the impulse to chase the essential priority of worship—an outpouring of exuberant praise and ultimate worth to the One who set us free.

We worship the gift and not the Giver.

I'm praying for an awakened view of the Healer in our church. I'm praying for hearts that are blended with "zeal and repentance" (Rev. 3:19). I'm praying that passionate demonstrative praise spontaneously erupts out of a regular diet of the presence of God developed in the secret places of our people. I'm praying for high hands and loud voices that bubble over from the seismic activity of God's grace.

I want our church to know, really know who it is that they come to praise every week.

If so, there is no other choice but to be the one in ten.