We live in a world where we put our names on everything. We sign our emails, we add our watermark to photos, we look for our name on plaques, buildings, donor lists. And yet one of the greatest composers in history, Johann Sebastian Bach, did something very different. At the end of many of his works he did not write “Bach, the genius,” but three small letters in Latin: “S.D.G.” – Soli Deo Gloria – “To God alone be the glory.” His signature was not “Look at me,” but “Look at God.”

That is the echo we hear in today’s Gospel.

Ten men cry out to Jesus from a distance. Ten receive mercy. Ten are healed. But only one turns back, praising God with a loud voice and falling at Jesus’ feet. And Luke quietly adds a detail: “He was a Samaritan.” A stranger. An outsider to Israel’s worship life. The ones who ‘should’ have known how to return thanks keep walking; the foreigner becomes the teacher of gratitude.

Why do we so often fail to live like the one who turned back?

Sometimes we are simply busy. Like the nine, we rush on to the next religious task, the next appointment, the next problem. The crisis passes and we move on.

Sometimes we feel entitled. “I earned this, I built this, I deserve this.” We forget that even the breath in our lungs, the skills in our hands, the opportunities in our path are gifts.

Sometimes we are disappointed. “Yes, God helped me here, but what about the prayers that still seem unanswered?” So we cross our arms and wait for a more complete miracle before we say thank you.

And it’s not only with God. We do this with each other. Parents, grandparents, spouses, friends, quiet servants in the church—people who pour out love, patience, and care. We assume they know we are grateful, but we rarely turn back and say it.

The Gospel is honest: even religious people, even insiders, can forget. The ones who grew up with the prayers, who know the psalms and the feasts, can walk on without praise. And sometimes it is the “stranger,” the one on the edge, who sees clearly and falls at Christ’s feet in awe.

So as we approach Thanksgiving, let us learn from Bach and from the Samaritan and write S.D.G. over our lives. When we wake, when we work, when we eat, when we succeed, let us quietly say, “To God alone be the glory,” and then let that praise spill over toward the people around us: a spoken “thank you,” a message, a visit, a blessing. May we not be among the nine who walk away silent, but among those who turn back—hearts bowed low, voices lifted high—giving glory to God and honor to those through whom His grace has come to us.