Finding Jesus at the Border: When You Don’t Feel Worthy to Return

Perhaps the nine lepers didn’t stay away because they weren’t grateful,

but because they didn’t feel worthy.

November is known for many challenges: NaNoWriMo, write a novel in 30 days; Movember, grow a moustache for men’s health; No-Shave November, no shaving to raise cancer awareness; and of course the 30-day gratitude challenge, where people post each day something they are grateful for. The last one can be bittersweet for our friends. It can serve as a painful reminder of what they don’t have. How can we approach November without unintentionally alienating those still struggling? I think the story of the ten lepers (Luke 17:11–19) can help.

A Story About Gratitude?

For years, I have been told the story of the ten lepers as a lesson about gratitude. Jesus healed ten lepers. Nine went their merry way, never to be seen again. Only one returned to thank Him.

Jesus asked, “Were there not ten cleansed? but where are the nine?” (Luke 17:17). Then comes a lesson on how we should thank God for every blessing we receive.

And I don’t disagree with that; however, what if that isn’t the reason the nine lepers didn’t return to Jesus? Perhaps the nine lepers didn’t stay away because they weren’t grateful, but because they didn’t feel worthy.

Let’s look more closely at two details that suggest why this might be the case.

The Lepers Kept Their Distance

These Israelites dutifully went to the priests; they had been taught to rely on the Law of Moses. They were taught that the ritual brought restoration. Yet the Healer standing behind them would provide complete healing.

When Jesus met the ten lepers, they were standing far away. That was the rule. They even wore bells to warn people not to get too close. They called out, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!” They knew they weren’t supposed to approach anyone who was clean.

Jesus’ initial command was, “Go shew yourselves unto the priests.” Their physical affliction, leprosy, had made them tamei (ritually unclean), and only the priest could declare them tahor (ritually clean) to rejoin the community.

The ritual cleansing was lengthy and complex, including:

Examination by the priest to determine eligibility
Two live birds—one sacrificed, one dipped in blood and released
A series of sacrifices and offerings, along with washings and shaving
The priest pronouncing the person to be tahor
The now cleansed person reintegrating into society

Physical healing alone was not enough—full restoration required time, procedure, and priestly approval.

These Israelites dutifully went to the priests; they had been taught to rely on the Law of Moses. They believed that the ritual brought restoration. Yet the Healer they left behind would provide complete healing.

The Lepers Were at the Border

The lepers were at the border of Samaria and Galilee. Why does this matter? Because one of the lepers was a Samaritan. This meant he went in the opposite direction of the other nine. He would have gone to his own priest.

When the Samaritan realized he had been healed, he turned away from the priest and walked back to the One who healed him. As he came close to the Savior, he fell at His feet and gave glory to God.

Jesus told him that his faith had made him whole. The Samaritan received not just physical cleansing, but sesōken—wholeness, salvation, and spiritual completion.

Jesus also asked, “…where are the nine?” Why would Jesus ask him that? How was the Samaritan supposed to know? He had been walking toward his own homeland, not theirs. Why would Jesus ask him a question he couldn’t possibly answer?

I think of Jesus’ question as one of lament—a concern that they didn’t feel worthy to approach Him. As the nine headed back to their communities, even once they were healed, they still weren’t clean. It would take days before they could fall at the feet of the Savior—at least not until the priests gave them permission to. What was the Samaritan, the foreigner, supposed to do about it?

Finding the Other Nine—a Call to Ministry

Perhaps Jesus saw the foreigner as uniquely positioned to seek out the other nine. I believe His question was a call to ministry.

The Samaritan knew exactly what it felt like to be an outcast—he was born as one. And after being cured of leprosy, he was going to remain one. He had been isolated with the nine; he knew their names and their pain. He knew their stories.

Perhaps, not despite, but because he was born as an outsider, he didn’t look to others to dictate his worth. He immediately turned back, prioritizing falling at Jesus’ feet and giving thanks over receiving permission to do so.

While the nine pursued the ritual, the Samaritan pursued the relationship. He knew he could come close to the Savior—and now he could teach the nine that they could too.

A New November Challenge

As we enter November—a month of challenges—let’s create a new one for ourselves. Let this be a month where we seek out the Other Nine.

Who needs to learn that Jesus isn’t transactional but transformational? Who needs help focusing on what they are becoming rather than what they are doing?

Our gratitude this month should not be a performance, but a calling. As ones who have felt the complete restoration of the Savior, our faith can be a bridge. We can help others see that the most crucial act is a relationship with the One Who Heals.

Or maybe the Other Nine is us. We don’t feel sesōken. We are seeking the wholeness others seem so grateful for. Are we letting rituals get in the way of relationships? Are we feeling unworthy or disqualified to approach the Savior? Have we fallen into the trap of believing we can obey our way to heaven?

Personally, I have days when I feel like I’m walking toward Samaria. I’m the foreigner, a perpetual outcast. I have to remind myself that my worth isn’t defined by how others treat me.

Other days I feel like I’m walking toward Galilee, busy with the routines and rituals of life, forgetting to prioritize the relationship I have with Christ.

But no matter what kind of day I am having, He stands there at the border of Samaria and Galilee, patiently waiting for me to fall at His feet so that He can restore me completely. This November, may we all find Him at the border, ready to make us whole.

Wishing you a great Sabbath,

Heather Ruth Pack