Luke
10:25-37.
I.
The
lawyer who approaches Jesus wants to know what he has to “do to inherit eternal
life.” He makes the assumption
that eternal life is a reward for what he does.
Jesus
doesn’t argue with him on this. In
fact, he agrees with him. But he
doesn’t answer the question directly.
He says, in effect, “You’re a lawyer, you tell me.” In other words, the answer is in the
Scriptures. “You are a
professional biblical scholar” – which is what a “lawyer” was in that culture –
“you can answer your own question.”
The
lawyer then quotes the most important and basic text in the whole Old
Testament, the famous Shema in
Deuteronomy 6: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with
all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind.” What we have to do, then, is to love
God with our whole being.
The
lawyer is to be credited, I think, because on his own initiative he adds
another verse, this one from Leviticus: “and your neighbor as yourself.” In the other gospels it is Jesus who
puts these two commandments together.
We call his pairing “the Great Commandment.” We don’t know if the lawyer made this connection himself, or
heard Jesus talk about it another time, or if it was a common teaching at the
time, to put these two commandments together.
Jesus
does not seem surprised. He affirms
the man and his answer, and says, “There you go. Do this and you will live.” In other words, there is something we can do to inherit
eternal life, it is about our actions
and behavior, not just our opinions or thoughts. What we have to do to inherit eternal life is to love God
with our whole being, and love our neighbor as ourselves. So go do it.
But
this does not satisfy the lawyer, who actually has a deeper agenda that he is
now getting to. He says, “Yeah,
but who is my ‘neighbor’?”
Who
is my neighbor? It is kind of a
trick question because, if you read Leviticus, it appears from the context that
the text is referring only to other Israelites. The lawyer wants Jesus to admit that this neighbor thing is
just about helping your own kind. Gentiles,
including Samaritans, were not “neighbors” in a strict sense.
The
lawyer is looking for Jesus to either give the traditional answer, which says
that only other Jews are your neighbors.
Or he wants Jesus to get himself in trouble with the Jewish authorities
by claiming that neighbor is a category that includes everybody. Such open universalism could not be
tolerated. Everybody knows, they
would say, that the Torah and eternal
life are just for us, not for them.
II.
Jesus’
ministry, and that of the early church, was radical and dangerous because of
its openness and inclusiveness.
Jesus would infamously heal, eat with, and befriend anybody: prostitutes, tax collectors, lepers, women, Samaritans and
other Gentiles, even Roman soldiers were not exempt from Jesus’ embrace.
He
expresses this mainly through his actions and his parables. Jesus here doesn’t come out and say,
“Everybody, even Gentiles, are our neighbors whom we are instructed to love as
ourselves.” No. He tells a story. And by telling
a story he makes a much more powerful point, while, as we will see, getting the
lawyer to admit the answer himself.
The
story starts off with a man making a journey along the steeply descending,
winding road through the wilderness from Jerusalem to the town of Jericho. It was a notoriously dangerous road,
noted for the activity of robbers.
We assume the man is a Jew, though Jesus doesn’t say so.
On
the way the man is mugged, and beaten rather severely. His clothes are taken, because textiles
themselves had a certain value, and he is left for dead on the side of the
road. The way Jesus talks about
this is to say he has “fallen into the hands of robbers.”
The
people listening to this story would have identified with the man who was
attacked. Not just because he was
a Jew like them, and they knew that road and how bad it was. But the observation that he had “fallen
into the hands of robbers” was actually a description of their whole lives.
They
knew themselves to have “fallen into the hands of robbers” as a whole
society. Their entire lives were
spent responding to the powerful forces who were systematically robbing them of
their livelihood through crushing taxes, high prices and fees, high interest
rates, even high exchange rates when you went to the Temple to worship
God. There was no way to get
ahead. You entire life was spent
working to basically make the people at the top wealthy, healthy, and happy. There was an enormous gap between the
few rich and everybody else, who actually did the work, but who had little to
show for it, except debts and bills.
When
Jesus tells this story, his hearers would have understood: “We’re that
guy. We’re the man walking a
dangerous road who has ‘fallen into the hands of robbers.’ He represents us.”
III.
Two
people pass by on the road. They
see the wounded and perhaps dead man, and they don’t stop to help. Instead they hurry by. The person who has “fallen into the
hands of robbers” is of no concern to them. And remember, if you identify with the mugged man, you
realize that these people are not there to help you either.
The
first passer-by is a priest, and the second is a Levite, kind of an assistant
or associate priest. Jesus does
not introduce these two characters by accident. He is saying to the people that, basically, your own
religious establishment and institutions do not care about you. They are more concerned with the biblical
regulations about purity, and the inconvenience and consequence of having
touched a dead body. They don’t
even bother to get close enough to see if the man is actually dead or not. Better not to take the chance.
“Your
religion is part of the problem,” says Jesus. “These people have power, they have authority, they have
status. They have something to
lose. They are part of the
upper-class that is living off of you.
They are not going to compromise any of that to help you. They will find an excuse, no doubt an
airtight biblical excuse, to walk by and let you die.”
So
by now Jesus’ hearers understand that they “have fallen into the hands of
robbers” and their own religious officials are not going to lift a finger to
help them. Indeed, they don’t even
believe it is their job. Jesus
says, “Do not depend on them.”
Now
the audience would have been wondering who, if anyone, is going to help the man
bleeding in the gutter. At which
point Jesus says, “But a Samaritan, while traveling, came near him.”
Samaritans
were considered an impure race of semi-Gentiles. They descended from foreigners who intermarried with Jews
centuries before, and adopted a kind of un-official version of Judaism. They were second-class citizens, and
the two groups couldn’t stand each other.
Samaritans mostly lived in an area north of Jerusalem, so this one was a
foreigner, traveling in Judea.
At
the mention of a Samaritan, I imagine some of Jesus’ hearers scoffing: “Right,
a Samaritan, like he’s going to do
anything.”
But,
of course, it is the Samaritan who is “moved with pity” and actually helps the
man. Indeed, the assistance he
gives is so wildly over-the-top that the point is unmistakable.
The
man whom everyone would have despised, and who would have despised them, is the
one who actually turns out to be the good guy. The Good Samaritan, as we say. I suspect people would have started turning Jesus off at
this point, because his story just became unbelievable.
IV.
You
can plug all kinds of different categories of people into this story if you
want to give it an impact today like it had then. For the priest and Levite we could substitute religious
and/or political authorities of our day.
People we’re supposed to depend on to help us, who, in the end,
don’t. They are more concerned
with their own status, connections, position, their own purity and political
viability, than with helping one poor slob who got mugged. Which is to say, us, the ones who have
“fallen into the hands of robbers.”
And
for the Samaritan we would have to substitute some class of people we do not
like or trust. The Samaritan is a
Muslim, an undocumented alien, a Tea Party activist or Occupy Wall Streeter, a
gay or lesbian person, someone HIV-positive, a registered sex offender, an
ex-convict. Whomever you fear and
even hate the most, that’s your Samaritan. That’s the only person you’re going to be able to depend on
when all the official helpers have decided to ignore your plight.
This
is what Jesus is saying. Your
leaders have failed. Help will
come from God… through the most rejected kind of person in your life.
After
the story, Jesus asks the lawyer a pointed question: “Which of these three, do
you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the
robbers?” Jesus thus turns the
original question, “Who is my neighbor?” on its head. He reverses it, and answers the question, “Whom am I
supposed to be a neighbor to?”
I
think Jesus thinks these are basically the same question. If you ask, “Who is my neighbor?” that
is like asking, “Whom am I supposed to love?” We are neighbors to each other. If one is in need, the other has to help… and
vice-versa. Being a neighbor is a
mutual, reciprocal, shared relationship.
It takes two, at least. If
I have little, my neighbor is the one with more who is therefore able to
share. If I have much, my neighbor
is the one with little with whom I am able to share.
Jesus’
point, as always, is that the outward characteristics of a person – their race,
religion, ethnicity, family, political views, economic status, gender, sexual
orientation, even what they have done in their past – none of that
matters. When it comes to a
neighbor it is merely the raw and immediate question of suffering. If a neighbor is suffering, you help
them. Period. End of story.
Everyone is our neighbor, and everyone is a neighbor to us, because we
all share in this basic human, mortality.
We all have the same flesh and blood.
V.
The
neighbor is the one who takes a detour in the rat-race of daily existence
because of the need and suffering of another. The neighbor is the one who sets aside their own agenda and
schedule, even some of their own values and morals and beliefs, because of the
cry of someone else’s mortality to theirs. The neighbor is the one who realizes that, one way or
another, we have “fallen into the hands of robbers” and there are many who are
left bleeding in their wake.
Jesus
would have us open our eyes to the need and suffering around us. And he would have us go out of our way
to rather extravagantly take care of others… especially those who are not
particularly liked or cared for in general.
I
think the gathering of disciples is called to take special care for the people
in a society whom nearly everybody rejects. The unpopular and the universally reviled. The people it is hard to raise money to
help. The people whom some would
say deserved what they got, or who brought it on themselves, or who wouldn’t be
in their predicament had they exercised some personal responsibility. The people whom, we are told, we should
not help because it would only encourage them to make the same bad decisions
again. After all, the Samaritan in
the story went out of his way to help someone who was, in effect, an enemy.
Following
Jesus means, well, following Jesus. It means doing what he did, in so far
as that is possible for us. It
means being instructed by his example of love, service, healing, liberation,
and blessing.
Our
church is going to experiment with following Jesus in a significant way on May
20. That’s what we are calling
“be-the-church Sunday.” On that
day, we will not be worshiping in the morning, but we will be sent out on three
different missions o f service to people in need.
Now,
it’s not like worshiping isn’t also a way of being the church. God also calls us to worship, praise,
prayer, and hearing the Word. But
on this day we’re going to concentrate on how an essential element of the
church’s work is to be sent out. I
guess, the point is to avoid looking like the priest or the Levite, passing by
human suffering while trying to serve God. On that day we’re going to take a detour. Instead of gathering we will be sent
into the community.
This
is a very exciting project and one in which I hope you will all
participate. I am sure that after
we have been sent, our times of gathering for worship will be that much more
powerful and significant.
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