There’s a thread running through today’s readings—a thread of endurance, of presence, of faithfulness in the midst of uncertainty. Whether it’s the exiles in Babylon, the psalmist praising through trials, Paul writing from prison, or a Samaritan leper returning to give thanks—each story invites us to ask: What does it mean to be faithful where we are?

Let’s begin with Jeremiah. The people of Israel have been taken into exile. Jerusalem has fallen. The temple is gone. Their world has collapsed. And into that grief, Jeremiah sends a letter—not with escape plans, but with instructions: “Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat what they produce… seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile” (Jer 29:5,7).

It’s not what they wanted to hear. They wanted rescue. They wanted return. But God says: Be present. Be faithful. Even here. Even now.

This is a hard word. But it’s also a hopeful one. Because it means that God is not only in the promised land—God is in Babylon too. God is not only in the sanctuary—God is in the scattered places. And God’s call is not just to survive, but to bless.

Psalm 66 echoes this with praise: “Bless our God, O peoples… who has kept us among the living and has not let our feet slip” (Ps 66:8–9). But the psalmist doesn’t ignore the pain. “You have tested us… you brought us into the net… you let people ride over our heads” (vv.10–12). This is praise that remembers suffering. It’s gratitude that doesn’t deny the fire, but sees God’s presence within it.

And that brings us to Paul. In 2 Timothy, Paul is in chains. He’s been abandoned by many. And yet he writes with clarity and conviction: “Remember Jesus Christ, raised from the dead… I endure everything for the sake of the elect” (2 Tim 2:8,10). Paul is not asking for pity—he’s calling Timothy to perseverance. “Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved… rightly explaining the word of truth” (v.15).

Paul knows that faithfulness is not always glamorous. Sometimes it looks like endurance. Sometimes it looks like quiet labor. Sometimes it looks like holding on to the gospel when everything else is falling apart.

And then we come to Luke. Ten lepers cry out to Jesus: “Have mercy on us!” (Luke 17:13). He tells them to go show themselves to the priests. And as they go, they are healed. But only one returns. Only one turns back, praising God with a loud voice, falling at Jesus’ feet. And he is a Samaritan.

Jesus asks, “Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they?” (v.17). It’s a question that lingers. Gratitude is not automatic. Praise is not inevitable. Faithfulness requires intention.

This Samaritan leper didn’t just receive healing—he recognized the source. He didn’t just move on—he turned back. And in doing so, he found not only healing, but wholeness.

So what do these texts say to us today?

They say: Be faithful where you are. Not just where you wish you were. Not just where things feel easy. But here. In exile. In suffering. In chains. In healing.

They say: Build houses. Plant gardens. Seek the welfare of the place you’re in.

They say: Praise through the fire. Endure for the sake of others. Turn back and give thanks.

Because faithfulness is not about perfection—it’s about presence. It’s about showing up. It’s about remembering Jesus Christ, raised from the dead. It’s about trusting that God is not only in the destination—God is in the journey. God might be present in other places than where we’d expect – in the places we dread going to, where our comfort is challenged, or where sorrow exists. But in going to those places, we also experience the embrace of our God.

So whether you feel like an exile, a prisoner, a leper, or a laborer—know this: You are not alone. God is with you. And your faithfulness matters. Amen.