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."
Luke 10:25-37
"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."
We hear that summation of the Law more than once in the Gospel. This time it appears in Luke in an equally familiar story. I would guess many of us heard this one growing up in Sunday School. We’ve heard it read here in church many times. It is so familiar in fact that the phrase 'good Samaritan' isn’t just understood inside our churches. It has become a part of our secular language as well. It seems everyone knows the story of the Good Samaritan, even Americans who have never set foot inside a church use the phrase. So what does common knowledge say a Good Samaritan is? Someone who helps another in need, usually a stranger, with no thought of reward.
Here at (NAME REMOVED) we do pretty well with that definition of the good Samaritan. We've got Food for Families, the food pantry, the thrift shop, and the refuge. Individually the list of charities we support is probably very long. We have taken to heart the story of the good Samaritan, and the definition of neighbor and care with which the world around us is so familiar. We are people, helping strangers, and not expecting reward. But there is more to this story, and I’m afraid the definition we all know is missing something.
Let’s go back to the story again: 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. There are three other men in this story about the Samaritan. A man beaten and left for dead, a priest, and a Levite. We don’t hear about any of them very often. So, what about them? Lets start with that priest and that Levite. Jesus certainly didn’t pick them by chance. Who were they? They were both respectable Jews. The priest is perhaps young, eager, and devout. The Levite perhaps older, he has been there and seen that. They are both neatly dressed in clean linen garments. Their very appearance as they hurry down that hot dusty road says they are devout and careful in their adherence to the law. They both gave money to the temple, they gave beggars who came to the doors of their comfortable homes the required scraps from the kitchen. They obeyed the law, they were good righteous men. Right? They might have been called pillars of their community. Maybe a lot like members of our congregation. Folks we admire and are grateful to have among us.
So what goes wrong, why are they the bad guys in Jesus’ story? They are hurrying down the road, absorbed in their own thoughts. It is hot, they are thirsty and tired. And these roads aren’t safe, they are studying the hills around them carefully, looking for any sign of trouble. Off there, beside the road among the rocks and the remains of old camps and discarded human trash they see what might be a dead body lying in the dirt. He’s been beaten, he is bloody and covered in dust. They can’t be certain if he is breathing or not, but he certainly looks dead. Both of these good men avert their eyes and maybe urge their animals on a little faster. Both of them hurry away.
They saw him, Jesus is pretty clear on that. Jesus knew that according to the Jewish purity laws they had done the right thing. It seems callous to us, but in that time and place no one would have faulted them for protecting their own ritual purity. No one but Jesus, who tells us that the rules have changed. Jesus knew something about how easy it is to feel like you are doing all the right things when you are really missing the mark. He knew how easy it is to not see the need right in front of our faces. Obeying the letter of that Law and not its spirit, isn’t enough. Jesus showed the lawyer, and us, that getting messy was required for his followers.
But lets not forget the first person mentioned in this story. 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. There are times in all our lives when it is here, in this man, where we see ourselves. Because this injured man isn’t just one of the “others” out there somewhere. He’s not only in a homeless shelter, or in a refuge camp far away. He is also sitting right here in the pew. We are the Priest and the Levite, but we are also, all too often, the beaten man laying beside the road.
The injured man in Jesus’ story has an advantage over us. He is wounded in a way no one can miss. Everyone passing by on that road can see how hurt he is. Everyone knows he needs their help. We aren’t always so lucky. Our wounds aren’t always so obvious. I might be afraid of loosing my job. Or maybe your family is struggling with a sick child, or elderly parent. Some of us are afraid we won't be able to pay our bills this month, or that the car won't start tomorrow, or an illness will get worse, or the University will turn us down, or a plea for forgiveness will be rejected, or our husband will hit us again.
If it was your neighbor in the pew struggling with one of those things, or a thousand other invisible injuries would you know? When we are struggling, injured, tired, or afraid, do we turn to our neighbor and ask for help? As hard as being the good Samaritan can be it is often harder to be the injured person who needs help. Especially when our injuries are invisible. If we are lonely, depressed, afraid, hungry. My Grandmother used to say ‘keep a stiff upper lip’. In other words, we put a good face on things, we pretend. We pretend we are OK and we pretend those around us are OK.
That definition of the Good Samaritan we all know is missing something. We aren’t called just to help the strangers out there. Our neighbors are right here as well, members of the body of Christ. We are each others neighbors, and too often we forget about one another. We forget that there is need right here. And there is help, right here in our midst if we are willing to get messy with each other. We are to be caring for one another. That can be frightening. It is frightening to ask: What do you need? It is frightening to ask: Will you help me? It is easier to give money to a distant cause. Or cook a meal for someone we don’t know, or smile and try to struggle through on our own. It is much easier to care for our distant neighbors. It is easier to be the one who gives care.
It is much harder, it seems, to take care of each other, right here. Because then it’s personal. Jesus is calling us to become personally involved in the lives of our neighbors. And those lives can be messy. Jesus does not tell the story of a good Samaritan giving a widow a handful of money to buy bread. He doesn’t get off with something that clean or quick or easy. The injured man was beaten and bloody. Covered in the dirt of the road, his own blood and tears. He lay among the debris and trash. The Samaritan stops along a dangerous stretch of road. He has made the peril of this injured young man his own. He kneels down in the dirt and the muck and lifts up the injured man’s head to give him sips of water. He keeps up a reassuring flow of words. “You are safe,” he says “Rest, you are safe.” He stands up and we can see that now he’s got blood, here, on the front of his tunic. His knees are stained with dirt. He turns and goes back to his donkey and draws out the oil and wine he bought for his own use and then he unfolds his spare cloak. It is good strong linen but he takes it in his hands and tears it into strips.
He washes the injured man’s wounds and binds them up gently with the strips of cloak. When he is finished his hands are covered with blood, and here, up his arms his sleeves are stained with it. His clothing is covered in splashes of wine and oil. He pauses for a moment, listening to the dry wind, does he hear horses? The tromp of boots? He looks the injured young man in the eyes and he smiles at him, it is time to go. Finally he leans down and he wraps his arms around the man and he lifts him. He sets him gently on the back of his donkey and they set off together. This Samaritan doesn’t look much different than the man he has helped now. He is covered in the same blood, the same dirt, the same filth. He is hot and sweaty and tired. Rescuing this young man was not easy or neat, it was messy and dangerous and intimate.
As I thought about the dual call today to both give and accept help I thought about something that happened to me a few weeks ago. I ride a little paint mare. She lives in a barn filled with the barn owner’s very fancy, very expensive, imported dressage horses. Image is just a little cow horse, and I’m just not in the same ‘class’ as the barn owner. For the year Image and I have been there the barn owner has spoken to me only to give orders, or tell me when I’ve done something wrong.
A few weeks ago I went to ride and found Image limping. I brought her into the barn, my heart hammering. I didn’t know what to do. Her hock was swollen and hot. I began hosing the leg down with cold water. I had never doctored an injured horse. Then the barn owner came through the big double doors. “Is she hurt?” She asked me. I nodded. “You should wrap it.” She started to turn away and I had a choice. I didn’t know how to wrap a horse’s leg, I didn’t even own any bandages or poultice. So I swallowed my fear of this acidic woman and said: “I don’t know how, would you show me?” To my surprise she went off to the tack room and returned with her arms full of her own horse’s bandages, soft cotton pads, and a big jug of poultice. She knelt down (in her designer cloths) in the water beside Image’s swollen leg and she taught me how to cover the injury in medicated mud. She taught me to wrap the injury. She made sure I got my hands in there, doing the steps with her and answering all my questions. By the time we were done we looked a lot alike. Our hair coming down, our cloths were covered in the same mud and horse hair and water. We got messy together. Image was cared for.
She didn’t have to inconvenience herself and come down to the barn when she saw Image limping. She didn’t have to give me her own bandages or take the time to teach me. And I didn’t have to make myself vulnerable by asking for help. But we did.
There is our call from Jesus. To get messy together. Jesus is calling us to inconvenience ourselves, to make ourselves uncomfortable, vulnerable. He is calling us to share in the pain and fear of our lives with each other. Let’s get messy.
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