Monday, July 15, 2013

who is the samaritan?: 8th sunday after pentecost


the holy gospel according to st. luke the 10th chapter.  glory to you, o lord.

25Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus.
       “Teacher,” he said,
              “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”
26He said to him,
       “What is written in the law?
       What do you read there?”
27He 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.”
28And he said to him,
       “You have given the right answer;
              do this, and you will live.”
29But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus,
       “And who is my neighbor?”
30Jesus 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.
       31Now by chance a priest was going down that road;
       and when he saw him,
              he passed by on the other side.
       32So likewise a Levite,
       when he came to the place and saw him,
              passed by on the other side.
       33But a Samaritan while traveling
       came near him;
       and when he saw him,
              he was moved with pity.
                     34He 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.
              35The 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.’
       36Which of these three, do you think,
              was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?”
37He said,
       “The one who showed him mercy.”
Jesus said to him,
       “Go and do likewise.”

the gospel of the lord.  praise to you, o christ.

-----

i have a confession.                                       

i’m not sure i really want god’s reign to come near.  i’m not sure i want god’s love to infuse every part of my life.  there are some people that i’d rather just not like.  i don’t want my enemies to become neighbors.  i’m not sure i want my prejudices and pettiness flipped on their head.  i really want to be able to look down on who i look down on.  i don’t want to be vulnerable with others—especially with those i don’t like, maybe even despise.

and i really want to be justified in doing just that.  i want to pick my neighbor and even if i can’t, i really don’t want jesus to pick them, because you know if jesus is picking, there’s going to be at least a few i don’t want. 

sometimes i think that lawyer has got to actually be me.

because the lawyer comes to jesus and in an attempt to prove himself and to test jesus, he asks who his neighbor is—whom does he have to love?  in typical jesus fashion, jesus doesn’t answer the man’s question about whom he has to love, instead he tells a story about what the reign of god means for how we love and are loved.

a man, presumably a jew like the crowd gathered, or if jesus were telling us the story, a christian, perhaps a christian in the united states for many of us—someone who is like us.  this person is robbed and beaten and left half-dead.  the priest—a religious leader—passes by, then a levite passes by.  now the crowd, following this pattern, doesn’t mind the priest and levite being the “wrong” ones in the story—they don’t really seem to see eye to eye with jesus, and they’re not always the most compassionate anyway, trying so hard to follow all those laws.

besides, according to the established pattern, the next one to come is the one to help and that one should be             a regular jew. 
that’s how the storytelling pattern goes at least: first the priest, then a bit lower: the levite, then a bit lower: the average jew.

¿but what happens, when instead of the average jew or christian walking by—as the crowd listening to jesus expects—it’s the enemy of the people? 

you see, in those days, samaritans and jews didn’t simply not get along, they despised each other.  both were descendents of sarah and abraham and believed they worshiped the one true god.  centuries of mutual dislike and separation resulted in the samaritans and the jews despising each other—wanting nothing to do with the other.  jews went out of their way to avoid encountering samaritans, including taking the long way around samaria when traveling.  never in a million years would they befriend each other.

and that’s who shows up.

the one person or type of person that you never expect or want to show up                         

and that’s all you get for help.  

as a hearer of jesus’ story, you go from thinking of yourself as the next one who will come by and will help, to being left wondering who you are supposed to be in the story? 

and then it becomes clear: perhaps, you are the one who was robbed and left half-dead on the road to jericho.  it’s either that or the robbers and i’m pretty sure you don’t want to be them.

so what do you do or think as the religious leaders of the time—ordained and lay—see you and pass by on the other side? 


and then, your worst enemy comes near and through your delirium you know that you must be a goner, because surely they will not help you                                     

when all of a sudden you feel gentle hands holding you, cleaning you, binding your wounds,   

saving you.   

this person you despise.  this person you prefer to never interact with—maybe even this person you are afraid of; is moved deep in their gut with pity.              for you.

the kindness and care of this person you have been trained to hate, to avoid.  even if you were to try and resist their help, you are too weak to put up any sort of fight, and you know you need their help or you really will die, so you go limp, you let them care for you.

but what must that do to you?  one whom you have despised or avoided on principle all your life has now been more gracious and merciful to you than your own kin. 



but that is what god’s reign is all about. 

it’s about the conventions we are raised with, the prejudices and preferential treatments being flipped on their head.  it’s trayvon martin seeing george zimmerman lying in a ditch half-dead and stopping, moved with pity.

just as jesus says that we must love him so much that even the love we have for our family is like hatred in comparison to our love for jesus, that is the power of the reign of god come near: that our familial love pales in comparison to love of god and our hatred of our enemy transforms into service and gut-wrenching compassion—pity that moves us so deep down in our gut.


the thing about the samaritan is not just that he does good and not just that he’s considered the enemy, but that the reign of god means that it’s our enemies who care for us and who we care for.  what would have happened if instead of calling trayvon martin a punk and going after him that night, george zimmerman had just offered him a ride?

jesus’ story begs two questions.  first: “who is our samaritan—that person with whom we’d rather never have to interact—who we despise?”



and also, “to whom are we the samaritan?  who would rather not have us around?  who would rather we just stayed away—out of their lives?”  whether this is religious, national, racial, gender, or personal biases,

from whom are we outcasts?

and how can we care for them?  how can we draw near to them, clean them, bandage their wounds, provide them with shelter and comfort and food?  what would it take for you or me to be that samaritan we call “good” to those who view us as samaritans?

and yes, this drives me crazy, because it means that if i ever encounter george zimmerman or a gun lobbyist or even fred phelps lying in a ditch half-dead, i will not stand my ground; i will not cross over to the other side and pass by, but instead my gut will be moved with pity and i will do mercy.  and what’s worse: if i am lying in a ditch half-dead, god’s reign is such that i will probably end up having one of them walk by and be moved with pity.

now don’t get me wrong.  this does not mean that i will support or encourage them in what they are doing and have done, but it does mean that i will do mercy.



this story of the samaritan is much loved and well-known.  countless churches, counseling centers and hospitals are named for it.  there’s even a law bearing its name.  this story is vital to understanding the reign of god come near. 

because god’s reign is about love of neighbor and more than that, it’s the humanizing love of neighbor that calls someone so despised and feared and dehumanized, a young black man like trayvon martin, perhaps, not only “good,” but also neighbor.

it flips our rules about who is in and out; who we like and who we don’t like, who has a right to live and who doesn’t. 

god’s reign means that love for family doesn’t hold up to love for god and god’s reign means that enemies are the ones who do mercy—they enact neighborliness.

that is how we come to know god’s love.   jesus pours out his love and grace on the cross and again and again it is poured out in the waters of baptism, not to save us individually, but instead it is our corporate salvation.  god’s love in jesus makes us all one body, one family, one being with one purpose.

last week, pastor jennifer pointed out that we are christ’s body in the world.  and not only are ours christ’s feet and hands as we interact with the rest of the world, but also with each other—together we are the body of christ—adjoining cells, fingers, toes, and eyelashes. 

we are the body of christ together in this world and what affects one of us affects us all.  because, as frederick douglass said, “where justice is denied, where poverty is enforced, where ignorance prevails, and where any one class is made to feel that society is an organized conspiracy to oppress, rob and degrade them, neither persons nor property will be safe.”

what harms you harms us all.

when anyone is beaten and left half-dead we all lay in the ditch with them.  when anyone walks by we all feel the pain of rejection.  and when that one, however surprising, unexpected, or even unwanted; when that one is moved deep in the gut with pity, we all are moved with pity for that one and join together to do mercy.

amen.

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