Mercy or Merit

Luke 17:11-19
From the outset a question or dilemma is posed: Are Jesus' acts of kindness deserved or undeserved?  Jesus encounters 10 lepers begging their "master" for mercy (vs. 13).  They are asking for an unmerited, undeserved act of kindness in cleansing their disease.  But their hearts are later exposed when, upon being cleansed, nine of them never return to "master" Jesus offering thanks for his mercy, only one of them does.  So back to our original question, did they truly feel they received mercy or had they the impression they had received what they deserved?  Is Jesus truly master or just fulfiller of personal desires?  The fact that they never returned to give thanks insinuates they felt deserving and no need to return to give thanks since they had received, not mercy, but just payment.  Jesus warns against this mentality when he told his disciples that there will be the tendency to begin to think that after serving and obeying him they are entitled to some kind of reward or payment (vs. 7).  They will forget that they are nothing more than unworthy servants deserving of nothing (vs. 9-10).  Their obedience is nothing more than a gift of mercy, an act of grace, not work that deserves wages.  He will give us "wages" (vs. 8; Matthew 10:10), but they are not earnings in the truest sense, but merciful acts of provision regardless of anything within us.  When we obey, even the noblest, most radical acts of sacrifice and action, we have done nothing spectacular, but only what is expected of us (vs. 10).  Why should we have extra merit or favor or grace?  Because we deserve it?  Absolutely not.  Our life is of no value, aside from what he does within us (Acts 20:24).  God rewards his own work within us, despite us, not because of us.  This is true mercy.  These lepers cried out for mercy from master Jesus, but did not see it as mercy, nor him as master.  They did not want real mercy, they wanted healing, and when they received what they wanted they had no more need of Jesus.  There is nothing wrong with going to Jesus with needs, but once being fulfilled, do we return and fall at his feet praising God (vs. 15-16)?  If his fulfilling our requests does not drive us to worship and cling to him that much more, then we do not understand who we are, who he is, and what true mercy and grace are, no matter what we say or refer to Jesus as.  And this is not a simple "thank you" or I will sing harder next Sunday in church or something, but a falling at his feet, worshiping, giving your life to him.  That is true thanks.  How often do we come to Jesus in desperate need, only to leave him, never to return until the next desperate situation arises?  How quickly we forget his past mercy and grace to us, abusing it due to the fact that we feel deserving, that we are lovable creatures.  Why else would we exchange his glory and provision for what what the world offers us?  Only one of these men kept his life by losing it (vs. 19; 18:33), while the rest, in preserving their life through requesting healing, truly lost it.  They feared their disease and the death it brought near, desperately wanting healing, not because they desired Jesus.  Why do we run to Jesus?  Because we fear what it means for our own personal lives if we abandon him?  Do we "worship" him and "follow" him because we are afraid of what it would mean if we did not?  We want his provision and grace and mercy so we will take his "lordship" if that's what it costs to get what we want.  We can stomach a little Jesus if it means good things for us and the fulfilling of our wants.  Is he nothing more to us that a means to an end, just like he was for these nine lepers?  Is it Jesus we want or what Jesus offers us that we want?  These lepers cried out to their "master" for his mercy, and yet it was not Jesus that was master but their own desires, i.e. themselves.  Their selfish desire for something drove them to Jesus, not a recognition of who Jesus is and who they are.  So many times we are our own masters, yet deceptively calling Jesus master simply to manipulate him to do what we want.  How often do we run to him, begging for mercy, while each act of mercy draws us closer and closer to him, to his feet, assuming the position of an unworthy servant who has received undeserved reward?  Or do we run to him begging for mercy, only to leave him once again after receiving what we wanted?  He is not master in this scenario, we are.  But we will give him whatever title we must to get what we want: master, savior, king, friend, father.