Gratitude, Leadership, and Unity

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Gratitude, Leadership, and Unity

There is a bracing clarity in today’s readings. Wisdom warns leaders that authority is a trust on loan from God. The Psalm insists that true judgment defends the lowly. Jesus heals ten lepers, yet only one turns back to say “thank you,” and he is the outsider. And Saint Paul commands: “In all circumstances, give thanks.” On the memorial of Saint Josaphat; bishop, reformer, and martyr for unity; these threads weave into a single call: let leadership become service, let healing become communion, and let gratitude become the path that holds divided hearts together.

Authority as Borrowed Light

Wisdom speaks without flattery: power is a stewardship, not a possession. God will “scrutinize your counsels.” That scrutiny is not arbitrary; the Psalm gives the criteria; defend the lowly, render justice to the afflicted, rescue the poor from the hand of the wicked. In contemporary life, “princes” include far more than politicians. Parents, teachers, managers, entrepreneurs, pastors, content creators, and anyone whose words shape decisions all exercise real authority.

Modern culture often measures leadership by outcomes, efficiency, or brand impact. Scripture measures it by the fate of the vulnerable. If the lowly are defended, leadership is luminous; if they are neglected, its brilliance is counterfeit. The promise here is sobering and hopeful: God’s impartial gaze is not meant to crush but to convert. Power can become a channel of mercy when it is received as borrowed light; reflected rather than owned.

Healing on the Way

Luke’s Gospel lingers over a striking detail: “As they were going, they were cleansed.” The ten lepers obey before evidence arrives. The cure comes in motion, not at the starting line. Many lives today echo this pattern. Recovery from addiction, reconciliation in a fractured family, therapy after trauma, rebuilding trust in a scandal-weary Church; healing often unfolds mid-journey, when the proof is still invisible and the next step feels costly.

Faith, in this register, is not a feeling but an orientation. It walks toward the priest, toward verification and reintegration, even when the skin has not yet cleared. There is dignity in putting one determined foot in front of the other. God’s grace is not always immediate resolution; sometimes it is courage with a timetable.

Gratitude That Names the Giver

Ten are cleansed; one returns. Jesus notices the arithmetic of gratitude. The Samaritan’s thanksgiving does more than complete a social courtesy; it transforms a transaction into a relationship. The others received a gift; this one meets the Giver. Hence the deeper word: “Your faith has saved you.” Cure addresses a symptom; salvation opens communion.

In a culture that prizes speed, gratitude is a countercultural pause. It refuses to move on to the next task without turning back to name the grace. This naming is profoundly eucharistic; Eucharist means thanksgiving. When life delivers a win; a good diagnosis, a breakthrough at work, the laughter of a child; turning back is not inefficiency; it is worship. And when life withholds a win, thanksgiving becomes a lifeline: not denial of pain, but acknowledgment that God’s presence is not hostage to circumstances.

The Wisdom of the Outsider

Jesus underlines that the one who returns is a foreigner. Outsiders often see what insiders miss. Across neighborhoods and nations, across denominations and liturgical traditions, grace regularly arrives through unfamiliar voices. Those in the center can become dulled by proximity; those on the margins sometimes recognize the gift first.

This moment presses on today’s fault lines; social, political, and ecclesial. Listening across divides is not optional kindness; it is evangelical realism. The Church gains nothing by shrinking her hearing. Humility that learns from “the other” is not relativism; it is Christlike attention to the person in front of us, where the Spirit loves to surprise.

Saint Josaphat: Martyr for Communion

Saint Josaphat Kuntsevych (c. 1580–1623), a Basilian monk and Archbishop of Polotsk, worked tirelessly for the unity of Christians after the Union of Brest. He reformed clergy, preached with clarity, and sought communion without erasing the spiritual treasures of the Christian East. His martyrdom in Vitebsk exposed how quickly zeal can be co-opted by fear and politics. Josaphat’s blood did not vindicate a party; it witnessed to a Person. He reminds the Church that unity is not absorption but a shared fidelity to Christ that honors legitimate diversity.

In a time when suspicion can masquerade as principle, Josaphat’s life is a summons to conversion: choose patient dialogue over caricature, reverence over rivalry, and pastoral care over polemics. His leadership invites rigorous self-examination by today’s “princes,” ecclesial and otherwise: Are reforms ordered to the good of souls, especially the poor? Do efforts for unity spring from gratitude for the gifts God has given to others?

Giving Thanks in All Circumstances

Saint Paul’s imperative is not naïve. To give thanks in all circumstances is not to bless injustice or to romanticize suffering. It is to insist that Christ is Lord in the storm as surely as in the calm, and that every circumstance can be offered, inhabited, and transformed. Gratitude in hardship is Christian realism: the cross stands at the center of history, and resurrection is not a metaphor.

Thanksgiving, then, becomes a posture of resistance against cynicism; a way of refusing to let disappointment set the boundaries of hope. It keeps the heart supple enough to recognize the Giver when the gift finally arrives, and humble enough to return when it does.

Practices for the Week

Authority is borrowed light; let it illumine the poor. Healing often comes on the way; keep walking. Gratitude turns gifts into communion; turn back and give thanks. And with Saint Josaphat, labor for unity that costs something; because Christ has already given everything.