Sermon: Seventh Sunday After Pentecost, 2010
Last Updated on Monday, 26 July 2010 13:14
July 11, 2010
Text: Luke 10:25-37
Nine days ago, around 7 a.m., here in Elmhurst, a prominent local doctor shot his wife in the face and then turned the gun on
himself. The couple had four children, two of whom were at home at the time of the shootings. It’s been all over the local news but I first heard about it from my son because one of the daughters goes to his school.
You have to have ask yourself, how does something like this happen? This man appeared to have everything. He was 52
years old with a beautiful family, four children, a highly respectable career as a pediatric heart surgeon. He was teaching at a
medical school in Wisconsin and living in an affluent neighborhood. As a pediatric heart surgeon, there is no doubt that he was
responsible for saving the lives of hundreds, perhaps thousands of children.
From the outside looking in, I would say that this man had a perfect life. But things are seldom as they seem.
Now, I’m not recounting this story so that we can feel ourselves superior to these poor people. I am not here to pass judgment.
My intention is to illustrate the tremendous need in this world for mercy. And for kindness. That no matter who you are or how much success you have achieved, horror is never far away.
Today’s Gospel lesson is the famous story of the Good Samaritan. We don’t know his name but virtually everyone has heard of
the Good Samaritan. We name hospitals after him. We even have Good Samaritan laws protecting citizens from being liable if
they stop and render aid to injured strangers. Some states have Good Samaritan laws requiring citizens to lend aid. All of this
comes from a beautiful little story Jesus told 2,000 years ago.
On one occasion an expert of the law stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”
“What is written in the law?” he replied. “How do you read it?” He answered: “‘ 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 ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’” “You have
answered correctly,” Jesus replied. “Do this and you will live.”
The lawyer asked, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” Sounds like a good question, but Jesus answered the question by
asking a question of His own.
The lawyer’s question was almost right but “almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades. There is one little word in
the lawyer’s question that spoils it.
The lawyer said, “What must I DO to inherit eternal life?” You and I can’t DO anything to gain eternal life. Jesus has already
done everything that needs to be done. You don’t have to do anything to inherit something.
When a man dies and leaves his fortune to his children, do you know why they inherit it? Because they are his children. They
don’t generally have to do anything. An inheritance is a gift, given because the parent loves the children and wants to be a
blessing to them. The only way to inherit eternal life is to be adopted into the Family of God.
Jesus was issuing a challenge when He said to the lawyer, “Do this and live.” Why? Because the lawyer knew he couldn’t do it
100% of the time.
So instead of trapping Jesus, the lawyer is trapped by his own logic. Knowing that he fell far short of loving his neighbors, he
asks for a clarification. That leads to the second question. But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my
neighbor?”
Here’s the wrong question: Who is my neighbor? It may sound like a pretty good question to you, but it misses the point.
In reply Jesus told this story:
A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he fell into the hands of robbers. A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. A Levite was a temple worker. Today we would call him a professional church worker.
Here are the first two surprises. Surely these religious professionals–the good guys–would help this hurting man! After all,
it was their job. Jewish storytelling usually followed a pattern of three’s, so after two failures, the audience would have been
expecting the next character to do better. Surely they suspected the third traveler would be a simple Jewish man who would
help the wounded stranger–but Jesus had another big surprise!
But a Samaritan,…
Whoa! The jaws of the audience must have dropped at that! The kind of animosity existing between Israelis and Palestinians
today closely follows how poorly Jews and Samaritans got along in Jesus’ time. Jesus doesn’t call him a “good” Samaritan.
That’s a label we have added. To the Jews, the phrase “Good Samaritan” would have been an oxymoron, two words canceling each other out, like “jumbo shrimp,” “friendly fire,” or “airline food.” The Samaritan should have been the villain but Jesus makes him the hero.
“As he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him.” The word literally means he got a
sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach because he was so concerned.
This wasn’t the way Jesus’ audience expected the story to end. The Jewish listeners would have been stunned by the
Samaritan’s behavior. Then Jesus inserted His own question. It was: “Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to
the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.” Jesus told
him, “Go and do likewise.”
There is the clear directive. Our behavior toward people should follow the model behavior of this Samaritan. Our neighbor is
anyone to whom we can show love and kindness.
All God’s commands can be summarized in these two principles: Love God and love your neighbor. Are you doing that? They
go hand in hand. In I John 4:20, we are told. “If anyone says, “I love God,” yet hates his brother, he is a liar. For anyone who
does not love his brother, whom he has seen, cannot love God whom he has not seen.”
Someone said kindness is love with its work clothes on. Love is not a feeling. It is something you do–it’s a verb. The true test
of love is not whether we can love those whom we know and those who love us. This parable is all about showing love and
kindness to a total stranger.
The priest and the Levite passed by and simply refused to help a man in need. Their attitude is still common today. Have you
ever thought or said, “It’s not MY problem.” Or “I don’t want to get involved?” If you want to be a loving person, you must be ready to have your plans interrupted. The problem with needy people is that they are always showing up on the side of the road right when we are about to do something.
With this story, it is appropriate to ask yourself which character best represents you? Are you the priest or Levite, the
outwardly religious person? Most of us are outwardly religious people. I don’t necessarily mean that as a criticism. All of
you obviously got up this morning and came to church. No one twisted your arm. You came of your own free will. From all
appearances, you are good God-fearing folks. The question is whether your Christianity goes beyond the surface level. How
willing would you be to allow yourself to be inconvenienced by the hurts of another person? How willing would you be to even
put yourself at risk or in danger in order to help someone? We are not saved by our good deeds, but our good deeds are the
result of being in a relationship with God.
So are you the priest or Levite? Or are you the Good Samaritan? The answer is probably, “Yes.” We are both, at times. I
sometime wonder if we miss the point, however. Maybe you are none of the above. Maybe you are the robbers who ambush
the lonely traveler and beat him up to leave him naked in the ditch. Maybe you step on the feelings of people close to you.
Maybe you try to take what doesn’t belong to you. Maybe you lust after things or covet things which you have no right to.
Maybe you behave in ways that are selfish.
Maybe you are the robbers. And other times, maybe you are the traveler. Maybe you are the victim of the selfishness of others.
Maybe the evils of this world gang up on you and leave you naked and alone and unable to care for yourself. In which case, the Samaritan is not really me or you. It is Jesus Himself. Jesus is the One who comes to our aid. By his death on the cross, He
has saved us, healed us and provided all that we need.
What kind of church is Redeemer congregation? Are we priests and Levites who witness the suffering of the people all around
us, in our neighborhood and community and do nothing? Or are we willing to do what it takes to show people the love of God?
You and I are the hands and feet of Jesus Christ in the world right now. You and I are His instruments, His representatives, to
bind up the wounded.
In Jesus’ name. Amen.