2025-11-27 Homily for Thanksgiving Day – Luke 17:11–19
Gratitude, Detours, and the Advent That Begins at the “End”
[draft, New intro to be added]
Thanksgiving is not merely a national holiday; it is a Gospel category. It is the very heart of the Eucharist itself—eucharistia, thanksgiving. And this Gospel about the ten lepers gives us a pattern for how God often works: circuitous, ceremonious, and finally curious, opening us to the surprising paths of grace.
1.
A Circuitous Path
Luke tells us that Jesus was “on the way to Jerusalem,” but then adds an
unexpected directionl: Jesus goes NORTH through Samaria and Galilee—a detour, a roundabout path, a
route no one normally took. It is the long way, the unexpected way, the way
that must have puzzled the disciples who likely wanted a more straightforward
road. They were ultimately headed “SOUTH ON THE PARKWAY”, not to the Jersey
Shore, but south to JERUSALEM.
Our lives resemble this. God rarely draws straight lines. We go the “long
way around”—through unexpected changes in family, health, work, or
responsibilities. Some detours we choose; others are thrust upon us. Yet these
circuitous routes are not empty. They are often where God meets us, precisely
because we become aware we aren’t in control.
I once had such a detour—a moment God used long before I ever imagined the
priesthood. I was traveling home from Washington, D.C. after a work assignment,
6 years before I would enter the seminary. I boarded my plane at Reagan
National Airport—this was the era of paper tickets, no smartphones, no
seat-selection apps. I sat down simply wanting to get home, have dinner with
friends, and go on with a normal weekend. The only priest I expected to see was
going to be in church on Sunday,
Then, out of the blue – it seemed – a Catholic priest from my hometown
parish took the seat right next to mine. We recognized each other immediately.
He wasn’t on vacation; he had been in Washington for a confidential meeting
concerning a major transition in his ministry. As we spoke, he entrusted me
with the news—before his parish even knew—that he would soon be leaving his parish
for a new assignment in the service of the U.S. bishops.
I had not asked for this conversation. I was not “discerning a call to the
priesthood.” But in that circuitous moment—an unexpected seatmate on a routine
flight—God opened a small window into the priesthood and planted a seed in the
ground I did not yet understand. As St. John Henry Newman wrote, God often
dispenses blessings “silently and secretly, so that we do not discern them at
the time except by faith.” Only later did I realize that this airplane seat assignment
was the detour I was supposed to take: God’s invitation to me.
2.
A Ceremonious Faith
The Gospel moves from circuitous to ceremonious. Jesus sends the lepers to show themselves
to the priests at a Temple ceremony, as the Law prescribed. The temple rituals
were not empty formalities; they restored people to the community. Ceremony has
purpose. Ritual situates us; it claims us; it reminds us who we are, not just
as individuals but together in relationships.
On this Thanksgiving Day, we give thanks for the rituals that bind us as
families and as a Church: gathering around the table, breaking bread, praying
together, coming to the Eucharist. Our faith is not simply emotional; it is
embodied in gestures, words, seasons, and sacraments. We need this ceremonious
dimension—not as a substitute for faith, but as the soil where faith grows.
Yet, as the Gospel reminds us, ceremony alone was not enough.
3.
A Curious Heart
Only one leper returns to Jesus—the Samaritan, the outsider, the one
furthest from Jerusalem both geographically and religiously. He alone is curious enough to come
back, praising God with a loud voice and falling at the feet of Christ.
Curiosity in the spiritual life is not idle speculation—it is the
willingness to ask, “What is God doing here?” even in what seems
ordinary or inconvenient. It is the openness to see blessing where others see
interruption. It is the courage to return, to reconsider, to be transformed.
The nine lepers follow the instructions. They go through the ceremony. But
only the Samaritan seeks the face behind the blessing. Only he discovers that
healing becomes salvation when gratitude becomes relationship.
So too for us. True Thanksgiving requires curiosity—an interior movement
that asks, “Lord, where are You in this detour? What grace are You giving
me that I cannot yet see?”
4.
Gratitude for the Unexpected
On this Thanksgiving, we might find ourselves around tables where not every
conversation will be comfortable. Some people at those tables may feel like the
last person we want to be with. Yet God’s grace can work through precisely
those individuals and those situations.
There may be people in our lives who challenge us, frustrate us, or remind
us of our own limitations. But sometimes those are the very places where God is
doing a hidden work—just as He did in that unexpected conversation on a plane,
or in the Samaritan who shocked the entire religious community by becoming the
model of faith.
Thanksgiving asks us to be grateful not only for the gifts we recognize, but
also for the graces we do not yet understand.
5.
Turning Toward Advent: The Beginning at the End
And today, as we celebrate Thanksgiving, we stand on the threshold of Advent. Advent begins,
paradoxically, with the end—the
end of the liturgical year, the end of time, the end of life as we know it. The
Church reminds us first of the Last Things—judgment, eternity, the coming of
Christ in glory—before turning our gaze toward Bethlehem.
Why does Advent begin with the end?
Because faith requires trust: trust that God’s plan is larger than our detours,
trust that what looks like an ending can become a beginning, trust that God
will lead us through the circuitous roads of life to the home He prepares for
us.
Advent invites us to cultivate a faith that is more than ceremonious—though
ceremony blesses us—and more than curious—though curiosity guides us. Advent
invites us to a steadfast
dedication to God, to daily prayer, to the discipline of asking
again and again, “Lord, where are You leading me?”
6.
Thanksgiving at the Altar
And finally, we return to the Eucharist—the thanksgiving of Christ Himself.
Jesus gives thanks to the Father as He gives us His Body and Blood, offering
His life so that ours may be renewed. Every Mass is our opportunity to turn
back, like the Samaritan, praising God and falling at the feet of Christ.
So today, I pray we ask for :
·
The grace to see God in the circuitous paths of our lives.
·
The grace to embrace the ceremonious beauty of our rituals and
worship.
·
The grace to cultivate a curious heart that returns to Christ daily.
May our Thanksgiving open us to the season of Advent, when endings give way to beginnings, and when the God who meets us on every road leads us toward the fullness of His love.
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