Dr. Paul Tellström                                                                    Irvine United Congregational Church

Proper 10 C 2007 “The Good Samaritan”                                                                                                           July 15, 2007

Copyright 2007, Paul Tellström.  May not be used without permission

Amos 7:7-9                                                                                                                 word count 1,827

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.”

This could be the shortest sermon ever preached in a pulpit.  I could sit down right now and we could all go home feeling that we’ve heard the gospel.

It should be short, because at the end of the scripture, Jesus even says that, well, that’s pretty much it…“Go and do likewise.”

It might be short, except that the story features a lawyer asking the questions, and you know that doesn’t bode well for the cause of brevity.

It could be the shortest sermon ever, but as you know by now, by virtue of the fact that you hired a preacher to tell it to you, it probably won’t be.  Silly congregation.

And yet, not silly at all—for we come together on a Sunday morning to bring light to something deep within us; to find a clarification, a direction, a way of being that aligns us to something that we cannot see, yet know in our hearts to be so true and beating with the cosmic rhythm of the universe, and we want to be more a part of that pulse.  We want to know how to act in this world, how to love and be loved, how to walk the path that leads us in the right direction.  And when something happens along that path, as we see in our story today, we want to be assured that our actions are in accord with what our hearts tell us to be true.

See, there’s something more to the story than meets the eye.  Something so obvious, it begs to be examined.

On the surface we, hear the story as a story.  There is a road that goes down from Jerusalem to Jericho.  It is 17 miles long and drops about 3,000 feet in those 17 miles.  It is a favorite hangout for thieves and robbers.

Jesus intentionally does not describe the man who is attacked by those thieves and robbers.  The audience, being Jewish, would naturally assume that he was a Jew.  Being in this half-dead state he would be unconscious.  Since he is left naked, he is unidentifiable. Historically, a person can be identified in one of two ways: his dress and his speech.  The man is any person: void of ethnic background, void of stature, void of position

            Since the priest who passes him by is bound by the strictures of religious law, he could be risking defilement if he touched someone who was not of his religion.  His religious system sets him apart from others.

            The road is a long one.  It is very likely that a person walking on it could see a long way ahead.  The Levite may have seen the priest ahead of him, and could have thought to himself, “If the priest may pass then so should I”.

Finally, the Samaritan walks along.  The Samaritans were a mixed race between the Jews of captivity and the Samaritan people of the land they were captive in.  Since they were not purely of one race, they were set apart from their kin in Jerusalem, and when we are set apart from each other, usually some hostility occurs.

The Samaritan is not a gentile.  He is bound by the same law as the Jews.  The Samaritan would not be naturally from that area, so the half dead man would certainly not qualify as his neighbor.

But it’s the Samaritan who risks defilement.  He approaches this unidentifiable man and helps him.  He does not recognize the wall that places some “within” and others “outside” of acceptability—he takes seriously the words of the law that compel us to love God and our neighbors as ourselves.  He went beyond it, not only rescuing the man, but putting him up and paying what would have been two days wages for his food and lodging as he went on his way.1 

The story is simple.  In fact, Jesus even says as much.  “Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” The lawyer said, “The one who showed him mercy.”  Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise”. 

We’d all be off doing likewise by now if my nature didn’t compel me to stand up here and belabor the unambiguous.  But here’s the aspect of the parable that jumps out as being obvious. The story is not just about the good Samaritan who did the right thing.  It is about the Good Samaritan who knew in his heart to do the right thing despite how the most just and righteous law of our faith, these “great commandments” as they are called, had become enclosed in a system that makes even the priest pass by the beaten man for fear of religious, political or social consequences.  Throughout history, “Us” and “Them” have replaced “we”, and justice is for just-us, whoever “us” is.

Carlton Pearson was the bishop of an evangelical mega-church where selling “hell” was big business.  He was interviewed on 20/20 this week, and he said that one night, as he watched Peter Jennings’ report on the suffering in Rwanda, he had a revelation.

“I remember thinking that these were probably Muslims because God wouldn’t let that happen to Christians”, he said.  “Unbelieving Muslims, little starving babies and that they were going to die and go to hell.  And that’s when I said, ‘God, how could you, how could you call yourself a loving God and a living God, and just let them suffer like that, then to suck them into hell?’  And that’s when I thought I heard an inner voice say, ‘Is that what you think we’re doing?’  I said, ‘That’s what I’ve been taught.  You’re taking them into hell.’  And that voice said, ‘Can’t you see they’re already there?  That’s hell. You created that.’”

Pearson believed that God was telling him hell is the creation of man on earth.  He began sharing this message, and it wasn’t long before Christian magazines demonized him. The denomination that made him a bishop officially labeled him a heretic.  His assistant pastors quit, and his congregation dropped from 6,000 to fewer than 300.  One of the remaining congregants said, “Now we’re a healthier church.”2  The church has moved from an exclusive idea to an inclusive one, from priest or Levite to being Samaritans on their walk.  Once the threat of hell was removed, the self-righteous, law-loving people left, and it was the few Samaritans that remained.

Where are you on your walk this morning?  How do you discern what is the right thing to do when those representing the values we are taught walk on by?

This week the pope announced that the Roman Catholic Church was the only true church.  Our Orthodox neighbors suffer from a defect, and we Protestants are only “ecclesial communities without means of salvation”.  This is a statement that wounds ecumenism.  It places a wedge, an “us-them” in our relationship at a time when interfaith and ecumenical dialogue is most important. 

And yet some among us are on the Samaritan walk, going into Mexico to build homes without a thought of religious differences.  Instead of interpreting orthodoxy, they are acting on the Gospel, and that is the difference between the priest that passed by and the Samaritan who stopped.    

Radical Islam shows only the face of those who set themselves apart claiming righteousness, and not the majority voice that believe in a merciful and just God, and a Koran that teaches tolerance of other religious traditions.  Irrational minds seeking a focus for their retaliation do not make rational judgments, so how difficult it becomes to walk our walk together when we see people setting themselves apart as being more important than acting in love towards God and neighbor in the search for justice.  How do we walk that walk today, and for whom do we stop along the way? 

The lawyer in the parable hears Jesus and asks, “Who is my neighbor?” and Jesus describes the man beaten by robbers and left unidentified on the road.  The neighbor does not have a name or national, or religious or social identity.  Our neighbors are simply our neighbors, and God’s justice is for all.

Robin West, writing in the St. John's Law Review3 says, “Justice, by definition, must be caring and, conversely, that caring, by definition, must be just.  The prophet Amos describes a scene where God is standing next to a wall holding a “plumb-line.”  The plumb-bob falls toward the exact center of the earth.  The line between hand and bob is therefore “upright”, an image of justice.

The nation, (but it can be any nation or society or religion or ideology) will be inspected.  It will be measured for its uprightness, its integrity.  Just as a wall that is “out of plumb” will collapse, so a society or ideology that is unjust cannot stand.

Do our dealings pass the plumb-line test?  Are they on the “up and up”, or “on the level”, or “fair and square?”

As harsh as the passage sounds, what makes this image compelling is its imperative dimension. “I am going to measure my people Israel by a plumb-line; no longer will I overlook their offenses.”  Somewhere a prophet’s voice is saying that a nation, a people, will be measured for its uprightness, its integrity.  We will be inspected, measured, held to account for our breaches, for our failure to stop by the side of the road where we see injustice or pain, where we close ourselves off from dialogue and throw barriers up.  We are judged when we walk on past the growing disparities between the first and third world, past class, past the “isms” of social inequities that keep us apart.  These injustices must be righted; justice demands it.  If we are to be moral, we can do no less.

So the question again is, “Where are you on your walk this morning?  How do you discern what is the right thing to do when those representing the values we are taught walk on by?”  The good Samaritan was the only one to walk the walk of real simple, honest faith—faith with justice.  The Samaritan simply loved God and loved his neighbor as himself.  How are you loving your neighbor…your spouse/partner/friend/enemy/co-worker or even citizen of the world whom you have never met but who breathes the same air and drinks the same water of life and is affected on some level by your actions in the world? 

Jesus asked the lawyer, “Which of these was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?”  And the lawyer answered, “The one who showed him mercy”.  And Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise”. 

And go and do likewise.

  

 

 

Sermon Resources

1.  synopsis of parable based on table outline of Matthew Slick, Christian Apologetics and Research 

     Ministry, 1996-2006, www.carm.org

2.  condensed from ABC 20/20 interview with Carlton Pearson, July 13, 2007

3.  Robin L. West, in “St. John’s Law Review”, Winter 1996

Scripture for Sunday, July 15, 2007

Proper 10 C “The Good Samaritan”

 

Amos 7:7-9

            7 This is what he showed me: the Lord was standing beside a wall built with a plumb line, with a plumb line in his hand. 8 And the Lord said to me, “Amos, what do you see?” And I said, “A plumb line.” Then the Lord said, “See, I am setting a plumb line in the midst of my people Israel; I will never again pass them by; 9 the high places of Isaac shall be made desolate, and the sanctuaries of Israel shall be laid waste, and I will rise against the house of Jeroboam with the sword.”

 

Luke 10:25-37

25 Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he said, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” 26 He said to him, “What is written in the law? What do you read there?” 27 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.” 28 And he said to him, “You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.” 29 But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”

30 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. 31 Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. 32 So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. 33 But a Samaritan while traveling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. 34 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. 35 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.’ 36 Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” 37 He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.