The Proverbial Good Samaritan
July 11, 2004 (Sixth Sunday after Pentecost -- Proper 10)
By
The Very Rev. Terry White,
Dean
- Deuteronomy 30:9-14
- Psalm 25 or 25:3-9
- Colossians 1:1-14
- Luke 10:25-37
(From The Lectionary Page)
The Gospel begins with the phrase, “Behold, a lawyer stood up to put Jesus to test.” Anybody here this morning feel like squirming a bit? Jesus showed great restraint in not telling any lawyer jokes. I am not so restrained.
A barber gave a haircut to a priest one day. The priest tried to pay for the haircut, but the barber refused, saying, "you do God’s work." The next morning the barber found a dozen bibles at the door to his shop.
A policeman came to the barber for a haircut, and again the barber refused payment, saying, "you protect the public." The next morning the barber found a dozen doughnuts at the door to his shop.
A lawyer came to the barber for a haircut, and again the barber refused payment, saying, "you serve the justice system." The next morning the barber found a dozen lawyers waiting for a free haircut.
Robert Martin Walker, a United Methodist minister turned full-time writer, has written an amusing little book called Politically Correct Parables, published in 1996, which continues to enjoy popularity. The rationale for Walker's book is to show the contrast between the values of our presumably "politically correct" culture and the teachings of Jesus in the Gospels.
The story of the Good Samaritan is renamed "The Generosity-Gifted Samaritan." In his retelling of "The Good Samaritan" Walker has Jesus ask the lawyer who was present, "Which of the three persons was the most sensitive to the male Jewish person's needs?" The lawyer at first answers, "I wish I could have found that injured person myself and sued those morally different persons", but then reluctantly gives the correct answer, "The one who was generosity-gifted." When Jesus tells him to "Go and do likewise", the lawyer immediately runs down to the Jerusalem-to-Jericho road and begins looking for victimized persons (potential clients) so that he could enhance his income. (From web search for Politically Correct Parables, Feb. 22, 1998, R.M. Fewkes.)
Every source I consulted on this text said that those who heard Jesus tell this story would have been shocked to hear that a despised Samaritan was the hero. We are not at all shocked by the description of a Good Samaritan,” so if we are to access the power of the parable, we, too must be shocked. So, he is one attempt to retell this today in order to achieve what Jesus did.
An American in the Middle East was mugged one evening, beaten, and left for dead. Two different religious clerics, on their way to lead prayer services, passed by on the other side of the road keeping their distance from the injured person who was barely breathing.
Luckily, a third person stopped to help. He was thought to be a member of Al Qaeda. He treated the wounded American, bandaged the wounds, and literally carried the American to an emergency room. He left a bag of money to care for the treatment, and promised the clerk to come back soon, and pay for any charges that the bag of money did not cover.
Who was a neighbor to the beaten American?
I’m squirming just telling this version, and I’m standing up. Such was the impact of this story when Jesus, in the midst of his followers, interested onlookers, and most certainly spies for the Pharisees, told this story commending the compassion of a Samaritan as fulfilling the command to love one’s neighbor.
The phrase “compassion of a Samaritan” sounded violently untrue to those who heard Jesus, just as the phrase “a compassionate terrorist” sounds blatantly false to us. When we hear a person we despise praised for some act, our teeth clench, our anger builds, and often, we spout off if not lash out. And we will have no part in such blasphemy. Picture dozens of people yelling at Jesus as he told this story, walking away, or now agreeing with his opponents that he was dangerous and had to go. Imagine a rock or two thrown anonymously, curses and threats hurled, too.
Now read what Jesus said, and pray to grasp why he told such an inflammatory parable. In this situation of a horribly beaten man fighting for his life at the edge of the road, the righteous past of both the priest and Levite meant nothing to the half-dead man, nor for that matter did the blasphemous, sinful past of the Samaritan mean anything. What mattered was what each did. And not even the lawyer who asked Jesus “who is my neighbor” could deny that the Samaritan set the example every godly person should follow.
So is God an advocate of the formula, “You’ve been a good friend to me over the years, but what have you done for me lately?” No, God’s covenant with us doesn’t work the at way. In baptism, God has promised that we are his forever. Instead this parable is about our response to God’s lavish grace and love which has been freely given to us. Our daily response is to show mercy, to (and pardon my grammar) to do compassion. At every opportunity, compassion must motivate and lead us.
Compassion is at the heart of this parable. Literally, the word for compassion is in the very middle of this text: 68 words precede it and 67 words follow it. (R. Carlson, New Proclamation, Year C, 2004, Easter through Pentecost, p. 137)
With this parable, Jesus makes it pointedly clear that you and I are to do compassionate things when it makes no sense to do so. This story does not promise a magic bubble of protection when we do the right thing. Jesus of all people knew that compassion opens us up to risk. The Samaritan could well have been accused of harming the injured man himself, and the Samaritan’s trial would have been swift and final.
Jesus accused the establishment of apathy when describing the first two people on the scene, respectable, honored leaders, who did not act as neighbor to the injured man. Jesus placed himself in great danger by telling this story and certainly made things tougher on himself and his followers. He was not a conventional preacher. And being God’s Son, he was also telling us a great deal about His Heavenly Father – incarnating compassion is at the heart of God’s vision for a restored creation.
Jesus expanded on Moses’ speech to the people of Israel from the first lesson. God delights in his relationship with us, his ways of doing are not mysterious or hidden. They are a part of us, intimately sown into our beings like seeds in the soil. “The commands of God as near, in your mouth and in your heart, so you can do it.”
Just do it was not first crafted by the folks at Nike. Though God says it early in Genesis, well give credit to Moses for now. Just do it. It is risky, it is complex, it will take us places we’d rather not travel to – but nevertheless, just do it. “It” is compassion, just do compassion, real compassion, healthy, divine, heavenly compassion – and you’ll never need ask who is my neighbor, or how shall I inherit eternal life.
A final point. Herbert O’Driscoll writes: Had the Samaritan ceased to help at any stage, he would have been excused for having done more than enough. He had already exceeded the social norms by binding up the man’s wounds. Then he displayed immense generosity when he took the man to an inn. And he went even further by accepting future responsibility and promising to pay additional expenses. In our society, the real challenge is not the casual hand-out. Most of us manage this without much thought. It is the acceptance of long-term responsibility for care – but it personally in a family for social in a community – that deeply challenges us. (p.53)
Dear People of God: Note in the text, Jesus does not call the Samaritan ‘good.” Nobody does. Yet parishes and hospitals and all sorts of organizations doing tremendous good are dedicated to the Good Samaritan. Let this parable challenge us anew to accept a long term commitment to “doing compassion.” Our calendars should reflect this commitment, as should our involvement here and in our several communities, our parish budget to clearly proclaim this commitment, as should our own checking accounts.