So later that evening,
wanting to be good neighbors, we decided we needed to help Randy’s mom feel
better about her son. That’s what neighbor’s do, right? Help their neighbor
feel better. So, we wrapped their house! We really did.
Well, actually, Janet just
watched. We wrapped Randy’s house that night when a couple from across the
street came over. And it seemed to work. Eunice complained and bragged at the
same time about Randy’s “friends” wrapping their house. We never told her it
was us. We felt pretty good about helping our neighbor that night.
That was our take on
being neighborly. God, on the other hand, probably thought otherwise. God, you
see, has never wrapped anyone’s house I’m
aware of. No, God has a very different idea about being a neighbor.
Especially about being a good neighbor.
God’s idea is told
this morning in the familiar tale of the Good Samaritan.
The lawyer in the
story tests Jesus with his question. “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”
Jesus, being the better lawyer, answers his question with a question, “What is
the law?”
Jesus knows this
lawyer well. He is of the establishment, the land of the gifted and talented
gentry. He is a man aligned with the Priestly and Levite classes in society.
Those who feel chosen by God.
Predictably, the
lawyer ticks off the correct answer, “To love the Lord your God with all your
heart, soul, strength, mind, and love your neighbor as yourself.”
Yes, that is the law,
Jesus says. Inheriting eternal life is about others, being in relationship and
love with others. Loving God and loving your neighbor and the stranger as you
love yourself. That is the law.
Then Jesus gives his
command, “do this,” and his promise, “and you will live eternally.” But the
lawyer could not leave it alone. “Who is my neighbor?” he asks. So Jesus tells his
story.
A man was on the road
from Jerusalem to Jericho. Robbers attacked him, stripped him, beat him and
left him for dead on the side of the road. A priest came along, saw him lying
there, and passed him by moving to the far side of the road. Priests, you know,
are the people of God.
A Levite came along
next, saw the man there on the road, and he too moved to the far side. Levites
are also the people of God.
Then a Samaritan came
along the road, saw the man lying there half dead, and was moved with pity. He
did not move to the far side. He stopped.
Everyone at the time knew this is not the way it should be. Samaritans
were anything but the people of God.
He went to him,
bandaged him, poured oil and wine on his wounds, put him on his animal, brought
him to an inn and took care of him. He even left extra money with the inn
keeper to care for the man with the promise of more if necessary when he returned.
Then Jesus asks the
lawyer, “which of these three do you think was a good neighbor?” The lawyer
knows, we all know, “The one who showed him mercy.” Then Jesus commanded once
more, “Go and do likewise.”
In the Old Testament
book of Amos the Lord said, “See, I am setting a plumb-line in the midst of my
people Israel . . . .” A plumb-line, as many of you know, is a carpenters tool
used to make a straight line or to find the shortest way between two points or
to know a level drop from point A to point B. The plumb-line is the straight
and narrow, the true path to the right way between divergent places.
The plumb-line in Amos
is like the road in Luke. It is the way traveled by the man, the priest, the
Levite and the Samaritan. We know it was not straight and we know it was the
road from Jerusalem to Jericho. It was a treacherous road with plenty of places
for robbers to hide. But there is a message there that is the true way, the
right path for all Christians.
In his story Jesus is
setting a plumb-line before us. He is saying, this road will represent the
defining moment, the straight and true way, to inheriting my Kingdom. Follow
this way, for I will never pass you by on the other side if you will but follow
me. The road alone is not the way to eternal life. It is what happens on the road that counts.
That is where our defining moment comes.
Moving to the other
side of the road is what the priest and Levite did. For it is simply what a
sensible person does, right? Right, so let’s be honest. There is a bit of the
priest and Levite in us all. We know better than to stop and pick up a
hitchhiker, we move to the other side of the road. If an animal is injured in
the road, we move to the other side. If we are on the street and someone dirty
and different comes our way, we move to the other side. If it would not be
safe, or sanitary, or prudent, or wise, or healthy, we should move to the other
side of the road.
This Samaritan, you
see, did a very crazy thing. He did not move to the other side. He followed
this dangerous path walking straight into the crime scene where he found this
unidentified man lying near death.
Jesus tells us, follow
the crazy behavior of this Samaritan. Our place, the disciple of Christ’s
place, is on the least desirable side of the road. The crazy side. The side
that does not make sense. The side of the other, the stranger, our neighbor as
it turns out. For it is on this side we find we are called to reach out to that
neighbor in mercy and love. Love in practice. Jesus moves us, each of us, to
the side of the road of the other, our neighbor, and ultimately to himself.
This is the defining moment for us.
Through the crazy
behavior of this Samaritan God is telling us we need to be just like Jesus. We
must live like the “Holy Other” who calls us not just to show mercy to our
neighbor but to give them everything we have.
After all, isn’t that
what Jesus did for us? Did he not give his life to care for and love you and me?
Has he not stopped by your side of the road?
Our call, from this
divine Jesus, is our call to faithful discipleship. It is a call to live in
spiritual union with Christ and follow this one who is the Holy Other. Our
response is to let him teach us his ways and not to be stuck forever in our
own.
When we show the side
of the Other in ourselves, we know God is alive and in us. For God is present
in the fallen man on that road between Jerusalem and Jericho and when we tend
to him, we tend also to God.
To follow Jesus, the
most radical Holy Other known to humanity, living as he has shown us to live,
becomes the defining moment in our neighborly behavior. For in his radical
nature, in his gift of self-giving love, forgiveness and mercy, Jesus has great
expectations. For his life Jesus expects nothing in return and he expects the
same from us. We are to love, forgive, and show mercy with the same expectation
of nothing in return. No thank you, no personal gain, no returned favor, nadda,
nothing.
For we are to be
grounded by the call to neighborly God like behavior. What is written in the
law? To love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with
all your strength, with all you mind; and your neighbor as yourself.
There it is. The great
commandment. Live love! Be “neighbor” to
those around you. Welcome and cherish God’s presence, whether in the stranger,
the enemy, or the friend. Be comforted so that your heart shall rejoice and your
work of discipleship shall flourish. Just do love!
The call to this
spiritual union of love with Jesus requires we live a holy life, that we take
an active part in his ministry, that we tithe, that we live a life style where
it matters that our salvation has arrived in this person we know as Jesus,
where scripture is the authoritative Word of God and the creeds of the church,
our church, are the accurate reflections of the gospel, where we recognize the
vital Christianity of our Reformed tradition, where we are so grounded in
scripture and informed by the history of the church we long for community with
all of God’s people. Then our work of discipleship shall flourish.
Early in Dostoevsky’s novel, “The Brothers Karamazov,” a
wealthy woman asks the elderly monk Staretz Zosima how she can really know that
God exists. He tells her that no explanation or argument can achieve this, only
the practice of “active love.”
The woman then
confesses that sometimes she dreams about a life of loving service to others –
she thinks perhaps she will become a sister of mercy, live in holy poverty, and
serve the poor in the humblest way. But then it crosses her mind how ungrateful
some of the people she would serve are likely to be. They would probably
complain that the soup she served was not hot enough or that the bread was not
fresh enough or the bed was too hard. She confesses that she could not bear
such ingratitude – and so her dreams about serving others vanish and once again
she finds herself wondering if there really is a God. To this Startez responds,
“Love in practice is a dreadful thing compared to love in dreams.”
We glorify God when we
set aside our dreams of sanitized neighborly care. Love in practice is a
dreadful thing. We do not get to pick and choose those whom God brings us for
our neighborly response.
Thomas Merton, the
monk from the abbey at Gethsemane said, “Our job is to love others without
stopping to inquire whether or not they are worthy. That is not our business.
What we are asked to do is to love and this love will render both ourselves and
our neighbors worthy, if anything can.”
This life on the other
side is a healing life, a saving life. Not because we are cleaver or are often
found in religious buildings, but because of our response to the “least of
these.”
Our world is filled
with the chance to respond to those whom we perceive to be the least. Be they
neighbor, or stranger. Be they folk on our side of the road or on the other
side.
God prays our response
with be one of love.
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen
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