I had a strange dream recently. I dreamed I was stricken with one of the most horrific diseases known to man. A disease that causes your flesh to slowly rot, turning you into something that appears less than human before eventually killing you. Perhaps worse, because this disease is so contagious, I was completely ostracized from - and forbidden to interact with - my family, friends, and the entire community in which I lived. Thus, my only companionship was a few other poor wretches with the same affliction, who, along with myself, had been banished to the outskirts of the city.

In my dream, my miserable companions and I had heard about a miraculous healer - a man named Jesus - who had been traveling around other cities and towns near ours. Almost everyone was talking about him - how he gives blind men sight, makes the deaf hear, and causes the lame to walk. But, most importantly for us, there were rumors that he had cured the same horrific disease that we had. The word on the street was that this Jesus would soon be coming to our city, so we - all ten of us - gathered outside the city in eager anticipation that he might soon arrive.

Fortunately, the rumors were true, and later that afternoon, we saw this Jesus walking towards us along with his disciples. We were forced to keep a certain distance from him - and everyone else - because of our disease. Nevertheless, as we had previously agreed, all ten of us in unison began crying out at the top of our lungs "Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!" Almost immediately, Jesus fixed his gaze on us. It was a look of compassion and mercy unlike any I had ever seen before. Then, he uttered a single sentence, telling us to "go and show yourself to the priests." Although this wasn't exactly what we had hoped to hear, my companions and I were so mesmerized that we instinctively obeyed the Master, turned around and walked back towards the town. Within a few moments, I realized that the disease has left me. One by one, each of my formerly diseased companions realized it too. Our open sores were healed. Flesh that was rotting was now restored as if we had never suffered from the debilitating malady. We were cleansed and cured!

I remember in the dream a feeling of indescribable joy. A joy from having been given something that I could have never obtained for myself; a pure gift - one that I had no right or even expectation to receive - that made me whole again. As I looked down upon myself in the dream, I thought "surely I will run back toward Jesus, fall at his feet and praise him, giving thanks to him for the miracle of my restoration." But that's not what happened. Instead, myself and eight of the others just kept walking back toward the town as fast as possible. From there, the nine of of scattered, going our separate ways in order to resume the lives we had led before we knew we had the disease and, more importantly, before we had experienced Jesus's mercy and compassion. Sadly, only one of us, some foreign guy from a different country, went back to thank Jesus for his miraculous healing.

Unfortunately, this wasn't a dream at all. No, Jesus' healing of the ten lepers in the Gospel of Luke (17:11-19) is all too real to me. Of course, I'm not so unfortunate as to have contracted leprosy. But worse than any physical disease or illness, I, like all of humanity, am stricken with the stain of original sin and the concupiscence that comes with it. For although I have been cleansed by Him in the waters of baptism and forgiven time and time again through the Sacrament of penance, more often than I could ever imagine or care to admit, I am one of the nine lepers who fails to return to Jesus. I return instead to my worldly ways as if nothing has changed - sowing, but harvesting little; eating, but never having enough; drinking, but never having my fill; clothing myself, but never being warm; earning wages, only to put them into a bag with holes (Haggai 1:6).

Like so many times in Scripture, it is easy to scoff at the obstinacy, the hardness of heart, the weakness, and/or or the ingratitude of the nine ungrateful lepers who turn their backs on Jesus. On closer examination, however, I usually have much more common with them than the lone Samaritan who returned to give him thanks. Even worse, I doubt like Thomas, deny like Peter, and betray like Judas.

Yet the mercy of God is stronger than the disobedience of man. Surely, justice demanded that Jesus withdraw the great gift of healing that he had given to the nine ungrateful lepers. But that was not so. As the renowned Scripture scholar Cornelius a Lapide explains:

He might with justice have deprived them of the benefit of the cure, and allowed them to fall back again into their leprosy. But he would not do this, because His mercy was so great that it extended even to the ungrateful.

And it is this great mercy that allows me, like the prodigal son, to come to my senses, arise, go to my Father, and beg his forgiveness once again. Then, like the lone Samaritan leper who was healed, I will hear Jesus say, "Rise . . . your faith has made you well."

God love you.