Neighbors
07/11/10
Scripture:
Luke 10:25-37A young white woman hurried along the empty, desolate streets in the half-light of dawn. It was cool but that was not why she huddled close to herself, her arms wrapped in front of her. It was the neighborhood which frightened her—she silently prayed each morning as she swiftly passed down these streets that she might soon afford lodging in a safer area. It was Sunday morning, and she was on her way to the diner where she worked as a waitress.
As if not to disappoint her expectations, three thugs jumped out from an alley and stood in her path. She immediately began to scream but there were few to hear her at that hour. They overpowered her though she fought them tooth and nail. Finally, one gave her a shocking blow to the head to silence her. Then in her unconscious state they used her shamefully and violently, raping and beating her and taking what money she had. As a final insult, they pulled the garbage cans in the alley over on her leaving her half-dead, partially concealed under the garbage.
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. Jesus replied, Do this and you shall live. Are you listening? But who is my neighbor?
Sometimes the one who acts as our neighbor is so unlikely we are wrenched with gut-feelings. We are angered because it was them who came to our rescue. That may have been the way the man who fell among robber felt about the Samaritan who saved his life. The last person in the world the Jews of Jesus’ day would have called “good” was a Samaritan.
In his book, What Do They Hear? Bridging the Gap Between Pulpit and Pew, Mark Allan Powell writes that while Americans understand the story of the good Samaritan to be about giving help to anyone who’s in need, that isn’t the case in all parts of the world. He writes, when I lived in Tanzania, the people there thought the moral of the story is that people who have been beaten, robbed and left for dead cannot afford the luxury of prejudice. They will accept help from whoever offers it. Indeed, the main point of the story is that God helps us in unexpected and surprising ways. Therefore when grain is brought to a famished village, parents of starving children should not care whether it is the Moslems or the Roman Catholics or the Jehovah’s Witnesses who bring it. God can work through anyone, including those we might regard as heretics and apostates, which is how the Jews would have viewed Samaritans.
But let’s start at the beginning of this parable that we know so well. A lawyer stands up to test Jesus. He asks, Who is my neighbor? The lawyer was probably looking for a debate, certainly not this incredible story about a Samaritan. He is asking, How much is enough? Where can I draw the line? How far do I have to go with this matter of loving my neighbor? Have I done enough to inherit eternal life? Questions we still ask today. I’m a good person, isn’t that enough? Is it really necessary to practice the love of God in all that one does? So Jesus tells this outlandish story about a Samaritan who was good; a story about generosity.
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. The story is one of violence, of danger. Not unlike our evening news on the television. Then a priest comes along and takes one look at him and passes by on the other side. A short time later, a Levite passes by. Both are personnel of the Jerusalem temple and are symbols of the religious elite. They are the ones we think we could depend on to be compassionate and offer assistance. Yet to touch the man, who might be dead, would make them ritually unclean, it would cause them a great amount of inconvenience and maybe even income.
(We do not have to be too creative as listeners to supply our own list of reasons as to why the priest and the Levite passed by on the other side, for they are our reasons; reasons each of us has used on similar occasions. What difference can one person make? We do have to live, don’t we? Fear that the evil forces which have nearly snuffed out his life might snuff out ours as well. Powerful, gut-feelings of fear. We must survive!)
I remember when I was working at a law office in downtown San Diego. I had just come from small town Ohio and the big city atmosphere scared me. I had an hour for lunch, and I usually went for a walk to catch some sunshine and get a little exercise. One day when I was out alone, I passed by a well-dressed little old man who was leaning backwards. I remember thinking that he was standing at a precarious angle, I sure hoped he wouldn’t fall. After I had passed by him, I heard a shuffling. I turned to see the man struggling to keep his balance. I could have reached him in a few steps and steadied him, but fear gripped me. What if he could do me harm, strangers in the city were dangerous, he might rob me. I was weak from a recent illness and wouldn’t be of much use anyway. So I turned and walked on. Finally, I stopped and looked back. The man had fallen, but by now three young men in suits were picking him up, brushing him off, and putting his hat back on his head. Well, I thought, if I had been a man, I would have helped, or if someone had been with me. But the memory still haunts me, and I would guess that many of you have a similar story--a time when our gut-feelings conquered our compassion.
On that infamous Sunday morning when the young woman was cruelly beaten, a priest came scurrying down that same deserted street just shortly after the thugs had disappeared. He was scheduled to say the 6:00 mass at Sacred Heart Church this morning. He really must make an effort to rise earlier—but then 6:00 am was an unreasonable hour. When he grew in seniority, he would not longer have to say the early mass, but could put that on a younger priest. As the young man strode past the alley entrance, he stopped for he saw the partially concealed body of the young woman. He looked at his watch. If he stopped to see to her, he’d be late for Mass; and if he was late one more time, he might be put on probation. Someone else would come along to take care of her, he thought. Besides, she is probably nothing more than a lady of the night. Who is my neighbor?
Martin Luther King, Jr., in preaching on this Bible passage stated that there are three philosophies on the road to Jericho: What’s yours is mind; what’s mine is mine; and what’s mine is yours. The robbers were of the philosophy that what’s yours is mine; they negate the value of the wounded man. The priest and the Levite believe what’s mine is mine. They were affirming their own value and not that of the wounded man. But the Samaritan’s philosophy was what’s mine is yours, I’ll share what I have in time and money and compassion. He affirms the worth of the stranger to be like that of himself. Love your neighbor as yourself. A neighbor is not something which can be defined, but it is a relationship into which one enters. It is God’s love for us, which enables us then to view the stranger as worthy.
Within the hour, a middle-aged woman was making her way along that same street to another neighborhood church. She served St. Luke’s United Methodist Church as pianist. She too stopped when she came to the entrance of the alley and saw the partially concealed body of the young woman. Fear seized her, and she looked around furtively. She expected the thugs to jump out at any point and fall upon her too. Oh, that thought terrified her so much she forgot what the poor woman had suffered. She was too frightened to go near her, what in the world would she do it the woman was dead? What if those who did this were watching for her to move nearer so they could rape her too? The very thought made this woman begin to inch away from the scene. Surely someone else, a man, who could fight the thugs off, will come by soon and help the beaten woman, she reasoned. I’ll put a call into the police, she consoled her conscience and moved away quickly.
This is not a parable about go and help those who are in need. It is about an even larger issue, that of our attitude toward all people—regardless of citizenship, race, worthiness, religion, sex, economic standing. Jesus is saying that his true followers are those who show love above all else. We don’t choose our neighbors and draw a boundary ahead of time—this one is in; this is not. But a person becomes a neighbor when a situation calling for compassion presents itself. God’s kingdom is present wherever people act like the Samaritan. Yet entering into a relationship with a stranger is both risky and dangerous.
Finally, in the earliness of that Sunday morning, another solitary figure slowly made her way down the notorious street. She walked oblivious of her surroundings with no wariness or fear for this was home to her, her tromping ground since she was a child. She traveled at a snail’s pace for she was stooped of shoulder and leaned heavily on a cane. Every morning, regardless of the day of the week, she gleaned from the garbage cans and the street of her neighborhood all reclaimable soda pop bottles, aluminum cans, and anything else of value that she might find. When she reached the entrance to the alley, she did not see the partially concealed body of the young woman for her eyesight was failing. The alley trash cans were a regular stop in her search for worthwhile refuse. As the old woman removed the overturned can she spied the woman. Oh---groaned the old lady with sorrow. Are you dead? The young woman did not answer. The old woman seated herself with effort on a box beside the victim and began to clean the garbage from her mishappened body. She gave no thought to the fact that the thugs who did this might be concealed somewhere down the alley, waiting to attack again. After the old woman made certain the girl was alive, she painfully pulled herself to her feet. Making her way to a pay phone, she searched her shopping bag for her precious little change. She dialed 911 asking for an ambulance. That done, she made her way back to the young woman to sit in vigil until help could come—making certain no more harm came to the girl.
Which of these three, do you think, proved neighbor to the woman who fell among the thugs? The one who showed mercy on her. Go—said Jesus—and do likewise.