The Right Reverend Denise Ferguson
Readings:
Jer 29:1, 4-7
Ps: 66:1-11
2 Tim 2:8-15
Luke 17:11-19
Holy God, may we have wide eyes, inquiring minds and loving hearts as we seek to follow
your Word and your Way. Amen.
Good morning, everyone. It is a delight to be able to gather with you as we worship God
together this morning. I thought it might be helpful if I briefly introduced myself, before taking the opportunity to explore the Gospel passage.
I am Denise Ferguson. Yes, the accent does give me away – I was born, raised and ordained
in New Zealand. My husband Mark and I moved to Cleveland in 2014, responding to a call to
serve in what is now East Redlands Parish.
In 2019 I responded to a call to Adelaide to be Assistant Bishop. My time in Adelaide was
very special, however, with family all in Brisbane we recognised it was time to return, so just
over a year ago, clutching our new Citizenship certificates, we joined the family in
Strathpine, and are living in a multigenerational household with our daughter, her husband
and our grandchildren.
My primary ministry now is as Deputy Director of Clergy Development and Training with
responsibility for those training for ordination. And, for the next month I am also locum
Southern Regions Bishop.
I appreciate that this is a very brief intro, and I am happy to continue the conversation over
morning tea following the service.
***
The Gospel reading today is one that always touches a nerve for me, especially in the
current environment of Entitlement.
I don’t know about you, but I was brought up to be thankful and grateful. I wrote thank you
letters after birthdays and Christmas and was expected to say please and thank you. – and
mean it.
In the age of digital technology, I’m not very good at writing ‘thank you’ letters or cards
these days, it’s more likely to be an email. But I am very conscious of my responsibility.
Those lessons of childhood are etched on my being. However, somewhere along the line,
things have changed.
We live in a world that expects a lot. We expect fast service. Instant results. Custom
experiences. We want things when we want them — and often believe we deserve them.
It’s no exaggeration to say that we live in what some have called “the age of entitlement.”
But maybe, things haven’t changed as much as we perceive, because in today’s Gospel,
Jesus asks a haunting question:
“Were not ten made clean? But the other nine — where are they?” (Luke 17:17)
Let’s set the scene. Ten men with leprosy meet Jesus from a distance. Leprosy wasn’t just a
skin disease — it was a sentence of social and spiritual isolation. These men were
untouchable, cast out from family, community and temple life. So, when they cry out,
“Jesus, Master, have mercy on us,” they’re not just asking for healing. They’re asking for
restoration, dignity, and hope.
Jesus doesn’t lay hands on them. He simply says, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.”
And as they go, they are made clean. Healed on the journey and restored to full
participation in family, community and synagogue.
But then comes the twist: only one comes back.
Ten were healed. One returned to give thanks for a life changing healing. And that one
wasn’t even an insider — he was a Samaritan. A foreigner. An absolute outsider.
Jesus wasn’t blind to this situation, and his following question cuts to the heart of the issue:
“Where are the others?”
Why did only one return to say thank you?
This is more than bad manners. It’s a window into the human condition.
Entitlement says: “I deserved that healing.”
Gratitude says: “I didn’t deserve this — but thank you, Lord.
We see this dynamic all around us today. The spirit of entitlement whispers, and sometimes
shouts:
• “I deserve happiness.”
• “I deserve a break.”
• “I deserve better than this.”
• “God owes me for being a good person.”
Even in the church, we can slip into this thinking — as if God is lucky to have us, as if we are
consumers of grace instead of recipients of mercy.
But Scripture tells a different story. The Bible shows us that we are not entitled to grace —
grace is a gift.
We don’t earn it. We don’t purchase it with good behaviour or right beliefs. It’s given —
freely — through Jesus Christ.
The nine who walked away remind us of a warning: it’s possible to receive God’s gifts and
still miss the Giver.
We can experience blessing without ever expressing gratitude.
So, what made the tenth leper different?
He saw he was healed, but not only healed, but restored to fully community. He turned
back. He praised God with a loud voice. He fell at Jesus’ feet. He gave thanks.
This is worship at its most profound (and remember – this man was an outcast, with no
connection to synagogue.)
In his response we see:
• Recognition
• Repentance (turning back)
• Praise
• Humility
• Gratitude
He wasn’t just healed physically. He was transformed spiritually. Jesus says,
“Your faith has made you well.”
The Greek word there can also mean “saved.”
Saved by grace, saved from isolation, saved from shame.
The other nine received healing.
Only one received wholeness.
Why does gratitude matter so much?
Because gratitude grounds us in the truth that every good thing comes from God.
Gratitude tears down the illusion of self-sufficiency.
It reminds us that we’re not the centre of the universe.
It opens our eyes to grace — not just what God has done for us, but who God is.
Gratitude reorients our hearts. It lifts our gaze from what we perceive that we lack – to what
we’ve received. Gratitude is not an afterthought. It’s a spiritual act — a mark of a heart
aligned with God.
So how do we counter the spirit of entitlement in our communities and resist the spirit of
entitlement in our lives and communities of faith?
Here are a few thoughts:
I began my reflection by praying ‘Holy God, may we have wide eyes, inquiring minds and
loving hearts as we seek to follow your Word and your Way.
May we have wide eyes – may we recognize God’s gifts — and name them.
May we begin our prayers not with what we lack, but with what God has already given: life,
salvation, forgiveness, breath, purpose.
Like the leper, don’t rush on to the next thing.
Pause.
Turn back.
Give thanks.
Say thank you — out loud. And mean it.
In worship. In our homes. In our workplaces. Gratitude expressed becomes gratitude
experienced.
We must teach our children and community the value of giving thanks. Gratitude must
modelled and be practiced to become habit.
Grateful people are generous people. When we realize and appreciate that everything is a
gift, we hold things more lightly. We give more freely.
Ultimately, this passage isn’t just about a healed Samaritan.
It’s about Jesus — the One who meets us in our brokenness and offers restoration.
Jesus doesn’t only heal bodies. He restores dignity.
He calls outsiders “brother” and “sister.”
He notices the one who is forgotten.
He asks questions that reveal our hearts: “Where are the nine?” — not because He needs
thanks, but because we need to give it.
We are all the lepers in this story. All of us need healing — from pride, from sin, from the
subtle toxicity of entitlement. And we are all invited to become like the One — the outsider
who returned, fell at Jesus’ feet, and gave thanks.
In a world that says, “I deserve,” we, the church must be a people who say, “Thank You,
Lord.”
When the world demands more, let the church offer praise.
When others forget the source, let us return to the feet of Jesus.
Because we are not entitled to mercy — we are recipients of grace.
Let us be the one who returns.
Let us be the loud voice of praise.
Let us be a church marked not by entitlement, but by deep, overflowing, humble gratitude.
And when Jesus asks, “Where are the nine?” may He find us at His feet.
Holy God, may we have wide eyes, inquiring minds and loving hearts as we seek to follow
your Word and your Way.
Amen.