How Neighborly – Sermon July 4, 2010
July 4, 2010
Scripture: Luke 10: 25-37
Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he said, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” He said to him, “What is written in the law? What do you read there?” He answered, “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; and your neighbor as yourself.” And he said to him, “You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.” But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan while traveling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, ‘Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.’ Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”
Sermon: How Neighborly
By Rev. Doreen Oughton
Many years ago, when I first started going to church, there was a great deal of controversy there. I listened to what the issues were, and quickly determined which “side” I was on, and looked with suspicion and judgment at those on the other side. I was never rude, probably not even unpleasant to them, just kept my distance and was dismissive of their perspective. I didn’t want to know these people who were so wrong about so much, who, I had heard, had behaved so badly and so faithlessly. Why were they continuing to come to church anyway? Why were they continuing to serve on committees? But they did serve, and I also agreed to serve, so was thrust into having to work with them. I listened for the things “they” said and did in meetings that confirmed my suspicions of them as spiritually shallow, only interested in the “business” of church, or the fellowship aspects. Some of them weren’t even Christian, so I didn’t expect to hear much concern about justice and outreach. So imagine my discomfort when “they,” and one in particular, started making proposals at the meetings about the church being more generous to those in need. How could I integrate this new information that she gave generously herself and encouraged the church as a whole to do likewise. I had thought of her as selfish, what was this! And what was I to make of it when she reached out to me, personally, during a difficult family time, and offered me friendship and incredible hospitality? Whoa! I hadn’t known she was my neighbor.
There was another time when I was going to a fairly large support group. A woman there, who I respected but who seemed so very different from me, stated to the group that she was going through a rough patch and would appreciate phone calls. I’m not sure why, but I really took it that she was talking to me. I hadn’t thought of her as a friend or neighbor, but she asked for something, and I felt responsible to respond. So I began calling her to check in and see how she was. We became good friends, and years later she told me how surprised she had been to get my calls. She hadn’t had me in mind when she made her request. She hadn’t thought of me as her neighbor.
I had mixed feelings when I saw that the recommended scripture passage for today was the parable of the Samaritan. It is so well-known, the term Good Samaritan so familiar. I was eager to explore to see if I could gain new insight, but worried that I wouldn’t. Has everyone heard this story already? Late-night host Jay Leno does a bit of asking people on the street if they’ve heard of certain biblical characters. Most of the people asked about the Good Samaritan knew that it was someone who had done a good deed, and had had hospitals named after him.
I imagine if you’ve been coming to church for some time, you’ve heard sermons about it. You probably know that a Samaritan was a person from Samaria, and that the Israelites and Samaritans did not see eye to eye. The Israelites saw the people from Samaria as less than, as unclean, as wrong about so many things. They didn’t want to know them. They took the long way around sometimes to avoid going into Samaria and picking up those Samarian cooties. And so the story is not just about someone doing a good deed, it is about someone surprising doing a good deed.
When we hear this story with our modern sensibilities, it is easy to see that we are to identify with the Samaritan. We are to let ourselves be moved to compassion by someone’s need, no matter who they are, no matter if it costs us. But this wouldn’t have been so easy for the lawyer questioning Jesus, nor all the others who were around Jesus listening to his teachings. It would be like a story of the governor of Arizona being rescued by a Mexican in the state illegally, or vice versa. It would be like a story of a good Muslim jihadist saving a Christian or a Jew. If Jesus had simply wanted to tell a morality tale about being moved to compassion to reach out, he could have made the third person, the one who stopped to help, anyone. A Jewish lay person would have been nice. The crowd would have eaten that up. They would have felt very satisfied at a tale about the “all talk, no action” decisions of the priest and Levite, who is an assistant to priests, versus the common folk who know how to put faith into action, who can walk the talk. But Jesus added that extra little provocation. I wonder why?
Could it be that he didn’t want his listeners to feel satisfied with his teaching? Did he want to leave them, and does he want to leave us, unsettled? I suspect he does. It’s not the first place, nor the last. He doesn’t make it easy to recognize the bad guy, does he? Oh sure, we can shake our head at the priest and the Levite, who walk by, maybe out of fear, maybe over their concern for ritual purity, or maybe just pure busy-ness. But instead of letting us believe we would be the good ones, he holds up a flash light, shining into the shadow places of our own hearts and souls. What’s that disgust in there toward the Samaritans? Do I see prejudice in there against the “other.” Are you so convinced of how wrong “they” are about so many, many things that you can’t even recognize the compassion they have about so much? In his story Jesus does ask us to expand our understanding of who our neighbor is, not just in who we would reach out to help, but in seeing those who reach out to help us.
I have to admit that when that person from my church, lets call her Liz, offered her friendship and hospitality, I wasn’t all that eager to take it. In fact someone I liked much better, Janine, also extended herself to me and I accepted that first. I felt more comfortable. Although I did see Liz’s offer as kind, I didn’t think she would be able to really be as good a friend for me as Janine could be. Janine was on my side. To let Liz be my neighbor would require more adjustment in my heart and my head than I really wanted. And I would lose that bond I had with those on “my” side in our mutual distrust of “them.” But God had plans for me, and things with Janine just didn’t work out for the long haul. But Liz, well Liz has been an incredible blessing in my life for many years and in many ways. And I did have to stretch, and I did find myself defending her and others of “them” to “my side.” I’ve tried to be a good neighbor to Liz also, but there is no way I could repay her. I was in a ditch and she lifted me out and tended my wounds and followed up with me. I resonated with the insight I came across in my research that only those who need grace can receive grace, that sometimes we have no choice but to give ourselves up to mercy, even when that mercy comes from someone we never thought of as neighbor.
Jesus’s message to the lawyer was one of moving from knowing to doing, from an effort to set the minimal parameters of obligation to an expansive sense of compassion. If we come away from this story with the belief that we now have an obligation to help anyone and everyone in need, we are missing an important point. We aren’t meant show compassion because it is an obligation that God requires. God continued to love the priest and the Levite who passed by. God understands that we truly can’t help everyone we come across who is in need. But we are invited to see that we have been in the ditch, that God, that Jesus, has pulled us out. We are invited to see that God is love and compassion and mercy and redemption. When we have the chance to show love and compassion and mercy, to help redeem ourselves and others, we have the chance to participate in the life of God. It’s not about worrying for our own souls and our own eternal life. It is recognizing that we can in live the eternal light of God right now, in this life. We just have to get that it’s not about defining the neighbor, its about being the neighbor, being the one who goes near, who gets right up close, even when its uncomfortable, even when we have to stretch. Let us go and do likewise. Amen.
