Sundays after Pentecost, Proper 10 [15] Year C
Today’s Gospel reading –
Luke 10: 25-37- is the most famous story Jesus told: the parable of the Good
Samaritan. Why even the term “Good
Samaritan” has entered into general language sometimes without people knowing
the story behind it.
A senior minister friend in
Victoria has a collection of sermons about Jesus’ parables: and from 60 books
on his shelves he has concluded that preachers could find about 20 to 30 themes
in this story.
Our story begins with an
expert in religious (’canon’) law asking: ‘What must I do to inherit eternal
life?’ Just in that one question he suggests that there could be the first four
sermon themes –
·
‘What is the
good life?’
·
‘Do we have to
wait until after death to experience this quality of life?’
·
‘Is it about
what I do, or is it a gift?’
·
‘Or has it got
something to do with “choosing your parents – or mentors – well” (and the
religion they handed on to you)?’
Anyway, this religious
lawyer had just one opportunity to ask this layman, Jesus the carpenter, a
question.
~~ Why not spend a moment talking to the person near you and tell
each other what you’d ask Jesus if he walked into this church right now?
(Let’s all hear a few).
Someone once asked a rabbi
‘Why do you Jews always answer questions with another question? The rabbi’s
response was: ‘Why not?’ – which is an interesting observation and if you look
at many of the interactions Jesus has with people you might easily get the idea
that he was a rather good Jewish rabbi, so in this story answers the lawyer’s
question with another question, well two questions, actually.
Jesus’ questions are: ‘What
is written in your law? How do you read it?’
The lawyer said:
‘You shall love the Lord
your God with all your heart, soul, strength and mind: and your neighbour as
yourself’
This was a combination of
two texts – Deuteronomy 6:5 and Leviticus 19:18. If he’d added another clause
from a bit further on in Leviticus 19:33-34 he could also have said: ‘And our
neighbour includes aliens’, even refugees and asylum-seekers.
But the crunch comes right
here: how to define ‘neighbour’? Perhaps this lawyer had heard Jesus say: ‘Love
your enemies and pray for those who persecute you’ (Matthew 5:43-48): pretty
radical, back there-and-then – and everywhere/with anyone.
Jews in Jesus’ day were
divided over ‘Who is the neighbour we’re supposed to love?’ The strictest of
them – the Pharisees – said ‘My neighbour is only someone who agrees with how I
interpret the law’ (= ‘the Bible’: these people are still with us. Strict Jews believed Gentiles – all non-Jews –
were created by God to be ‘fuel for the fires of hell’.
Jesus answers this question
with his famous story.
A man (presumably a Jew)
walks from Jerusalem to Jericho. This road descends over 25 kilometres from 700
metres above to 400 metres below sea-level: Jericho is still supposed to be the
lowest point on the earth’s surface. The winding, steep road was sometimes
referred to as ‘The Red and Bloody Way’: bandits lived in desert-caves near it
and robbed people stupid enough to walk that road alone.
So this poor man got
severely beaten up, and lay bruised and bloody on the side of the road.
Along came a priest: their
job was to offer sacrifices and preserve the traditions of Israel. Then a
Levite came – who was something like a modern-day cathedral chorister.
They both had a look at the
body, and walked on. As I have suggested
to you in recent sermons if a person touched a dead body they would be ritually
unclean and therefore unable to fulfil their religious obligations. Someone jokingly suggested that this priest
was a religious bureaucrat – who was most concerned about mucking up the Temple
rosters! And that the Levite was on his way to deliver a lecture on brotherly
love, and was running late!
Anyway what Jesus said next
took everyone’s breath away: a despised Samaritan was ‘moved with pity’ (a strong word in Greek – his compassionate
feelings came from deep within him), bandaged the poor man’s wounds,
soothed his injuries with oil and wine, put him on his donkey, took him to an inn,
cared for him over night rather than just dumping him there, ensured ongoing
care by paying the inn-keeper to look after him – and offered to pay more later
if needed…
And of course, Jesus
followed up his story with a question.
“Which of these three do you think was a neighbour to the
man who fell into the hands of robbers?”
To which the man could only reply “The one who
had compassion on hum.”
So what’s the main point in
this story about life, about good religion?
Simply: Debating the meaning of words –
like ‘neighbour’ – can be an evil distraction.
The point is not about
defining who fits into the concentric circles of ‘who’s in my group, and who’s
on the edge, and who’s definitely outside it.’
The point is: if you really
love God and others, you need to be a neighbour to whoever needs
your help, your healing touch, your listening ear, your empathy, your
encouragement, whatever.
Samaritans were despised
because they were mixed-race, half-castes, and they responded – as people from all despised
groups do – in one of three ways.
·
Some – a
minority – got angry, and became ‘terrorists’.
·
Some lived with
despair and depression and – the majority – with a deep inferiority complex.
·
A few became –
like Nelson Mandela in our day – magnanimous towards those meting out
condemnation/ injustice.
Or even became compassionate
and helpful, like this Good Samaritan.
Let us pray:
God of love, the word and way of
your true Son has revealed all that is required of us, and supplied all that is
deficient in us. Trusting in his saving
grace, and relying on the guidance of your Holy Spirit, may we love our
neighbours wherever we encounter suffering and neglect. For the healing of
humanity and the glory of your name. Through
Christ Jesus our Redeemer.
Amen!
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