Made Well

Sermon — October 12, 2025
The Rev. Greg Johnston
Lectionary Readings

Then Jesus said to him, “Get up and go on your way;
your faith has made you well.” (Luke 17:19)

The term “wellness” has really taken off over the last few years. It’s common now to see “health and wellness” paired, where “health” means being in sound physical and mental condition, and “wellness” means something vaguer, but more holistic. So, for example, the “health center” at my alma mater, where you could go to the infirmary when you were too sick to stay in your dorm alone, or you could see a therapist on a regular basis or, now has a “wellness center” where you can go for acupuncture or massage. But wellness isn’t just a nice add-on. Wellness is a big business. People are spending more money than ever chasing after improvements to their health, sleep, nutrition, fitness, appearance, and even mindfulness. And I didn’t make up this list—these “six dimensions of wellness” came from a report published last year by the management-consulting firm McKinsey & Company about the booming growth of what’s now a $2 trillion wellness industry.

So there’s one kind of conversation about wellness, maybe more common in the world of healthcare, education, or spirituality, that’s about bringing a more holistic approach to discussions about health: How do you encourage practices that help people flourish, rather than just treating them when they’re sick? And there’s another kind of conversation about wellness, maybe more prevalent on TikTok and Instagram, that’s more about trying to find a product you can sell; and indeed the growth in the wellness industry has come from the promotion of “functional nutrition” and beauty products, “wellness experiences” and longevity techniques.

Our own Christian tradition has things to teach us about wellness. So I want start this morning in the Second Book of Kings, because today we’re going to talk about what you can learn from Naaman’s skincare routine.

Sorry, that wasn’t the real segue.There probably are people trying to sell you Jordan-River water as a way to clear the complexion. But that’s not where we’re going to start. Because in the Gospel today, Jesus restores ten men to health, but he only tells one of them that he’s been made well. So I thought we should back up a little, and ask: What is “wellness,” anyway?

Well, first we should clarify what leprosy is. When you see this term in the Bible, it’s not the horrible affliction also known as Hansen’s disease, which couldn’t be treated before the invention of modern medicine and led to the creation of isolated “leper colonies” and so on. In the Bible, “leprosy” is a more generic term for a bunch of different skin conditions, all of which were thought to convey some kind of ritual impurity. Someone with one of these skin conditions couldn’t participate in certain rituals until it had cleared; and when it did clear, they would go to the local priest, who would inspect the skin and then verify that they could return to normal life. (Over the millennia, we’ve dropped the more dermatological parts of the job description—thank God.)

So these ten lepers come out from the village and call out to Jesus. All of them have faith that he can perform a miracle cure. And what does Jesus do? Nothing impressive or flashy. He just tells them to go and show themselves to the priests as if they had recovered. And as they depart, just as they’re beginning to turn around, their skin clears. And nine go on their way, but one returns, praising God, and thanking Jesus. (And this one, by the way, is a Samaritan—a foreigner from an unfriendly country.) And Jesus says to him, “your faith has made you well.”

All ten lepers had enough faith to ask Jesus for mercy and healing. And ten of them were “made clean.” in other words, all ten of them were restored to the physical condition that the priests could inspect and declare ritually clean. But only one, when he notices that he’s been cured, offers a sign of gratitude for that healing. And it’s this one man to whom Jesus says, “your faith has made you well.”

In the eyes of the Gospel, you might say, wellness is health plus gratitude. And “gratitude” is not only a thought, or a feeling, it’s an act—there’s both an outward and visible sign and an inward and spiritual grace. The man actually comes and says thanks.

Compare this to the story of Naaman the Aramaean. Naaman is a powerful man, a conquering general who’s just defeated the people of Israel. But he, too, is in need of a cure. And eventually, after some amount of back and forth, he comes to the prophet Elisha to ask for help.

Now, wellness isn’t free, right? (It’s a $2 trillion industry.) And so Naaman comes prepared. The lectionary skipped a few verses again, today, but verses 4-6 tell us that he went, taking with him ten talents of silver (that’s 755 pounds), and six thousand shekels of gold (150 pounds)—that’s about $10 million of precious metals, unless my math has failed me. And he comes to Elisha’s door with chariots and horses and great pomp. And Elisha doesn’t even come outside, but sends a messenger to say, “Go wash in the Jordan River seven times, and you’ll be clean.” (2 Kings 5:9)

“Are you kidding me?” Naaman says. “I thought he would do something cool! I thought he would come out, and stand and call upon the name of the Lord, and wave his hands, and say a prayer! But a river? We have rivers! We have better rivers! I could wash in those!” But finally they calm him down, and he goes, and washes in the Jordan River seven times… and it works.

There’s nothing he needs to buy. There’s no work that needs to be done. He doesn’t even need to see the prophet face to face! As soon as he’s willing to admit that he needs help, and to accept the help he’s offered, he is cured.

And then, just like that one Samaritan leper who returns, Naaman the Syrian general comes, and praises God, and offers a gift of thanks.

So, I’m not a dermatologist. And I’m not a wellness influencer. (Not yet.) I have no advice to give you on your skincare routine, or your nutrition, or mindfulness, or sleep. (Although I do have some opinions I can give you free of charge.) But I am a priest. And I do see something about wellness for all of us.

And it’s this: ten former lepers were made healthy, but only one gave thanks, and that’s what it means to be well. The difference between the nine and the one is gratitude. And that’s really good news. Because we don’t have very much control over the world we live in or the circumstances of our own lives; there are things we can do to influence our health, but in the end many things are out of our control. But we can control how we respond.

We can choose to cultivate gratitude, and to practice giving thanks. In fact, we’re practicing it right here, right now.

I used a certain phrase, earlier. I said something like, “gratitude includes both an outward and visible sign and an inward and spiritual grace.” And if any of your ears perked up and thought that sounded familiar, that’s because it is; I didn’t make it up. That’s how we define a sacrament: “The sacraments are outward and visible signs of inward and spiritual grace.” (BCP p. 857) And while the cleansing of Naaman in the river certain evokes the sacrament of baptism, I’m actually thinking of the sacrament we call the Holy Eucharist.

Eucharistia, in Greek, means “thanksgiving.” And that’s what we do when we come together on Sunday mornings. Our primary act of worship is the one in which we give thanks. We pause, for a while, to listen, and to pray, and then we thank God for the work of creation and salvation, at the cosmic level and at the level of our own lives.

Day after day, we cry out to God: “Jesus, Lord, have mercy on us!” (Sometimes we paraphrase.) And day after day God reaches out to us to offer healing grace in our lives. Most of the time, we don’t even notice the effects. We don’t think to turn around. But on Sunday mornings, we set aside this time to offer a sacrifice of thanksgiving to God. There’s some ritual and some hand-waving involved, but at the heart of things, that’s at the heart of what we do: we give thanks to God. And then we “get up and go on [our] way,” trusting that God has made us and will make us well.