Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time
One of the cartoons I would watch growing up was “Scooby Doo.” For
those who aren’t very familiar with the series, it follows a group of
friends along with a dog, Scooby Doo, who solves mysteries, especially
when aided by Scooby snacks. While I haven’t watched the show in some
time, I seem to remember that there was always some twist at the end,
where one of the people they encountered earlier in the episode ended up
being dressed up as a monster or a ghost, trying to scare and
intimidate someone for some reason.
Today’s first reading and Gospel accounts would have seemed like such a twist to those who heard the story. For the Jews hearing about Elisha, they would have been shocked that Naaman, a pagan, would have been healed by God, and then really shocked that he wanted land so that he could worship the true God, rather than his pagan gods, on the soil of the Promised Land. And for the Jewish Christians hearing about how the ten lepers were healed, but only the Samaritan, the non-Jew, returned to thank Jesus, the shock would have likely been similar. In neither of those cases was the result expected: pagans were not often considered as likely for conversion, and Samaritans were supposed to be a heretical mix of Judaism and paganism, so they weren’t thought of highly, either.
And yet, that’s what happened. When Naaman encountered God through the prophet Elisha and the healing that Elisha performed, Naaman tried to reward Elisha, but then asked simply to be able to worship the true God. And when the Samaritan, whom Jesus healed of leprosy, realized what had been done, he returned to thank God, while the others simply went about their business.
Gratitude happens most easily when we encounter someone who offers us something that we want or need, and we realize the value of that which we received. When a friend calls or texts to help us out in difficult times, we are grateful. When we receive a gift for which we asked, or maybe even we didn’t ask for it, but wanted it and received it, we are grateful. When a neighbor, colleague, or even a stranger does something that makes our life a little easier, even if it’s something as simple as holding a door or raking the leaves up in our yard, we are grateful.
But gratitude is a virtue, which means it is a practiced piece of our character, a disposition to act in a particular way based upon many occasions of acting that way. Virtues take practice for them to become second-nature; they don’t start off that way in most cases. And so you display gratitude even when you get underwear for Christmas, or when your birthday gift isn’t exactly that item you wanted, or even when the execution of assistance ends up making life more difficult. In order to be thankful people, to have that virtue of gratitude, we have to give thanks.
Throughout the month of October, our diocese has each parish count the number of people who attend Mass. Since 2012, our average attendance at Mass as dropped from 876 people, to 395 people in 2018. That’s a decrease of 55%. There are certainly a lot of factors that go into it, but part of that decrease goes to why people go to Mass. I hear it from both youth and adults: Mass is boring; I don’t like the music; I don’t like the preaching; it’s too long. The common thread in all of those answers, and even more that I’m not mentioning, is that the self is the center of importance. There is something about the Mass that doesn’t appeal to me, whatever it is.
But the Mass is an act of gratitude. In fact, the word Eucharist comes from two Greek words which mean to give thanks well. The Mass is our sacrifice of praise, offered to God, for what He has done for us in the past week. It is our sacrifice, and yet is acceptable because we unite it to Christ’s perfect and acceptable sacrifice of praise that He offered on the cross. The Mass is our opportunity to practice the virtue of gratitude, even when it’s difficult, which means that we’re growing in virtue.
And the key to gratitude is that it’s not about me. Being grateful is precisely about the other and what he or she has done. Maybe we did get underwear for Christmas that we didn’t really want or need. But we say thank you because the other person wanted to express their affection for us, and we want to acknowledge that goodness in the other person. Maybe someone helped us out when we were having a rough day, or week, or month, or year, and we want to acknowledge the time they took out of their own schedule to focus on us. Gratitude, if true, does not care about what I get out of it. Its only concern is that the other is affirmed in the gift they gave.
Why do fewer people go to Mass? Because we’re ungrateful. When we don’t acknowledge the gifts that God gives us throughout every moment of our life, of course we don’t care to take time to say thank you to God at Mass. When, instead, we live in an awareness of just how much God gives us, then we should desire to say thank you to God. And even when maybe we feel that urge to stay home, or watch a game, and skip Mass because it takes effort, we realize that we want to express to God just how grateful we are for what He has given us.
It was certainly a plot twist, a surprise, when the two pagans were the ones who gave thanks to God after encountering His gift. What is more surprising is when those who claim to follow Jesus don’t return each week to thank Him for the many gifts He has given us. Don’t be ungrateful to God. Give thanks to the Lord for the gifts He has given us in this sacrifice of thanksgiving of the Mass.