Riding a Drunken Camel

 

Learning how relationships need to be two-way streets

10/12/2025

Luke 17:11-19 As Jesus continued his journey to Jerusalem, he traveled through Samaria and Galilee. As he was entering a village, ten lepers met him. They stood at a distance from him and raised their voices, saying, "Jesus, Master! Have pity on us!" And when he saw them, he said, "Go show yourselves to the priests." As they were going they were cleansed. And one of them, realizing he had been healed, returned, glorifying God in a loud voice; and he fell at the feet of Jesus and thanked him. He was a Samaritan. Jesus said in reply, "Ten were cleansed, were they not? Where are the other nine? Has none but this foreigner returned to give thanks to God?" Then he said to him, "Stand up and go; your faith has saved you."

I have lived in Fort Smith for 12 years now and I still have not gotten used to the crazy street configurations. Have you noticed this as you drive around? It is often said that the streets of Fort Smith were laid out by a man riding on the back of a drunken camel. I’m sure the man was drunk, too, to get on the camel.

But the hardest part of our beloved city’s traffic pattern is where two-way streets suddenly become one-way streets. A couple of times I found myself driving the wrong way into one-way traffic. And I felt like I was on the back of that drunken camel, who didn’t know which way he should go.

In the gospel today we see how one-way traffic can also afflict us in the spiritual life, and why two-way traffic is better. Jesus is traveling through Samaria where he meets 10 lepers. They beg for healing: “Jesus, Master! Have pity on us!” And Jesus heals all 10, but only one comes back to say “Thank you.” Jesus asks: “Has none but this foreigner returned to give thanks to God?”

You see, Jesus’ healing power had sort of traveled from him to the 10 lepers, but at that point it was all one-way traffic. And 9 of the lepers happily jumped on their drunken camels and headed home. But one leper, a Samaritan, returns – returns in the opposite direction – to thank Jesus.

If you were to look upon that scene through the eyes of faith, you would behold bustling two-way traffic. The gift of healing was going one way and the feeling of gratitude of heart was going in the other direction. In other words, the City of God, like the city of Fort Smith, functions best when there is busy two-way traffic.

Let me apply this two-way traffic to our own lives. The most famous citizen of Fort Smith is Judge Isaac Parker, the “Hanging Judge.” When he read his sentence of death, he said: “May God whose laws you have broken, and before whose tribunal you must appear, have mercy on your soul.” For 21 years Judge Parker, like a judicial traffic cop, directed one-way traffic sending men to the gallows.

But before his own death on November 17, 1896, Judge Parker discovered the wisdom of two-way traffic. What do I mean? Well, lying on his deathbed, Parker gasped to his wife, Mary O’Toole, a devout Catholic: “Mary, call the priest!” And Fr. Lawrence Smyth, pastor of I.C. ran down Garrison Avenue – a two-way street in more than one sense that day – to baptize Parker before he died. The most famous Fort Smithian died a Roman Catholic.

As he was dying, Parker was traveling a one-way road toward divine justice but Fr. Smyth came running to meet him with divine mercy, and effectively made it a two-way road. By the way, this is why the Catholic Church stands firmly against the death penalty. Why? Because we oppose sending anyone to the gallows before they can cry out for mercy to God, like Parker did. We all desire busy two-way traffic before we die.

We discover a different kind of two-way traffic in spousal communication. Some married couples’ daily dialogue consists only one-way traffic of criticisms and complaints: “You don’t help with the kids.” “You work too much.” “You spend too much money.” “You don’t make any time for me.” Think of the comic strip The Lockhorns.

But a much healthier traffic pattern of talking would be the two-way traffic not only of complaints but also of compliments. “You hit a homerun with dinner tonight.” “You must be the hardest-working employee!” “You look smashing in that dress.” “I can’t wait to spend eternity with you!” In other words, the one-way traffic of complaining must frequently – indeed always should – yield to the two-way traffic of complimenting.

A third example of two-way traffic can be seen in coming to Mass every Sunday. That is, we should not come only to hear uplifting music or a soul-stirring sermon or even to receive Communion. That is all one-way traffic: God gives and we receive. How often people complain: “I don’t get anything out of the Mass!”

I’ll never forget how our high school principal, Fr. George Tribou, would often tell us students: “You don’t come to Mass just to get something. You come to give something: to give some of your time, to give some of your attention, to give some of your love.” We come to say like the leper in the gospel, “Thank you Lord for all you’ve given me.” In other words, at Mass we should travel a busy holy, two-way highway of receiving God’s gifts and giving our gratitude.

My friends, be very careful as you drive home today from church. Fort Smith is infamous for its crazy one-way streets. But be even more careful about the same traffic patterns in life. The best roads in our relationships are busy two-way traffic of justice and mercy, and criticisms and compliments, and gifts and gratitude. Fort Smith’s streets may have been designed by a guy on a drunken camel, but our lives better not be.

Praised be Jesus Christ!