The Narrow Gate
Welcome to the continuation of my blog, post-seminary. Ministry and evangelism have brought me back home to Chattanooga. I welcome your company on my journey.
The original blog, Down In Mississippi, shared stories from 2008 and 2009 of the hope and determination of people in the face of disaster wrought by the hurricanes Rita and Katrina in 2005, of work done primarily by volunteers from churches across America and with financial support of many aid agencies and private donations and the Church. My Mississippi posts really ended with the post of August 16, 2009. Much work, especially for the neediest, remained undone after the denominational church pulled out. Such is the nature of institutions. The world still needs your hands for a hand up. I commend to you my seven stories, Down in Mississippi I -VII, at the bottom of this page and the blog posts. They describe an experience of grace.
Sunday, March 5, 2017
Day 1546 - Why is It So Easy to Be a Good Neighbor?
A
sermon shared at First Presbyterian Church, Spring City, TN, March 5, 2017
Why
is it so easy to be a neighbor? Before answering, let’s sort out Luke’s record
including this parable about neighbors. Throughout his ministry, Jesus used
parables to ask questions that were often answers to a questioner, using a
story that has a double meaning, one that sounds reasonable on the surface but
on thinking about it becomes disruptive, turning reason on its head. We think
we know where Jesus is going, but when he is done, we wonder, how in the world
did I get from where I started to here??
A
unified message threads its way through this part of Luke starting with the
disciples being sent off on their first mission trip and ending with the
parable about the Good Samaritan.
First,
Jesus tells the disciples the harvest is plentiful and the workers are few as he
sends 70 more of them (the workers) off on their first “harvest” journey (previously he sent the 12), so
this suggests truly the urgency of “the harvest.”) The instructions are simple,
take nothing with you except the clothes on your back, sandals on the feet, and
speak to no one on the road, only knock on doors of homes. When someone answers
the door, greet them, ‘Peace to this house!’ And they invite you in to share
the peace, your peace will rest on them; but if not, it will return to you. If
they reject you, shake the dust from your shoes/sandals and go on to the next
home.
“Shaking
the dust from your shoes” is an old Semitic custom that more, or less says, “I
tried to help you but you have rejected me, so I leave your fate in your own
hands.” The instructions then are that
the disciples are to have patience and restraint towards all those folks who reject
and put them down. “Shaking the dust of your sandals” isn’t judgment, it acknowledges
one’s faith is in one’s own hands. We are not responsible for “making” someone
a Christian, only for having the kindness to harvest the ripened crop.
We
know this is true. The last
comment by Jesus before they leave is, “Whoever listens to you listens to
me, and whoever rejects you rejects me, and whoever rejects me rejects the one who
sent me.” (You know who that is.)
Surely
enough the 70 return, reporting great success, saying, “Lord, in your name even
the demons submit to us!” Jesus pours cold
water on their pride, saying, “I watched Satan fall from heaven like
a flash of lightning... do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you, but
rejoice that your names are written in heaven.” Jesus refocuses their attention
from the power he gave them to the deed itself, sharing their peace. It was
their faith that kept Jesus with them as they shared peace and faced ego-piercing
rejection.
When
we say, “Peace be with you,” we are following the response of God to Gideon who feared he would
die. It means “The Lord is with you, you shall not die.” Passing the peace
turns us away from self and towards the other person. That is why the 70 disciples
“names are written in heaven.”
Jesus
knows the disciples (and us) will not get the message without some divine help,
because he utters a prayer of
joy for the Holy Spirit, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth,
because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have
revealed them to infants; yes, Father, for such was your gracious will.” We
are infants in living our faith. – Infants learning to walk…
The
requirement to turn from self and to the other, passing the peace, readies us
for one of the more widely known parables, the “Good Samaritan.” Everything about
this parable is important.
First,
look at the participants in the conversation leading up to the parable. Turning
from this prayer with the disciples, and talking about eternal life, Jesus makes an aside so
quietly that only the disciples hear it, “Blessed are the eyes (of
others) that see what you see! For I tell you that many prophets and kings
desired to see what you see, but did not see it, and to hear what you hear, but
did not hear it.”
Is
he reminding them of all those who shared peace with them, and all those who
did not? Or is he sharpening their minds to understand how “passing the peace”
connects to what happens next?
An
expert in the Law listening to these public comments by Jesus stands up and
asks the question, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”
We
call him a lawyer. But he is a religious lawyer of the Law of Moses. Remember
Jesus said he came not to overturn the law but to fulfill it. We have two “legal
beagles” schooled in the Law, ready to argue. Jesus answers the lawyer’s
question with a question, in classic form, “What does the Law say?”
Everyone
knows that answer (Psalm 15),
it is written on their doorposts Remember the mezuzah? The mezuzah holds the Shema, the ultimate
assertion of the supremacy of the Lord and source of our being, “Hear, O Israel, the Lord is One. You shall love
the Lord with all your heart, soul, strength and mind.” And, “and love your
neighbor as you love yourself.”
You
can imagine an inward smile on Jesus, the constant fisherman, as he casts his
line, saying, “Do this and you shall live.” The lawyer took the bait and ran
with it, asking, “And who is my neighbor?”
Jesus
answers with the parable involving four men, a priest, a Levite, a Samaritan
and a half-dead, naked man in the ditch beside the road.
We
need to know some things about these four men and Jerusalem as the parable
unfolds. A priest is a member of the tribe of Levi. They are set aside for duty in the
Temple. A priest is a Levite. All Levites were not priests but Levites had
some religious duty in the Temple. They were bound by the purity practices of
The Law in order to administer their duties in the Temple. If they are unclean,
they cannot enter the Temple and fulfill their duties without going through an arm-length list of rituals of
purification. Touching a dead person, or human blood required purification. Also,
it is considered a sin to look
on another person’s nakedness. (One of Noah’s sons was cursed because he saw Noah drunk and passed out
naked on the floor of his tent.)
As
the Samaritans, they shared a mutual hate with the Judeans. The nation of
Israel split in the reign of Solomon into ten tribes of the Northern Kingdom in
Samaria and two tribes of the Southern Kingdom in Benjamin and Judah. They
fought and argued other over religious precepts as Catholics and Protestants
did in the days of Martin Luther, even the way some Protestant denominations do
today. Each saw the other as a heretic
to be avoided.
Jerusalem
is on a hill and this road up to the Temple is steep, on a hill 2500
feet above sea level and 3800 feet above the Dead Sea. A traveler from
Jericho would make a 3500
foot climb over 14 miles. During the time of Jesus, it also a dangerous road
where traveling Jews bringing money to buy sacrifices for the Temple could be
assaulted by robbers hiding off the roadside.
That
is the setup as Jesus begins his parable with, “Once upon a time” there was a
priest, a Levite and a Samaritan. The Levite and priest see this half-dead,
naked man in the ditch on the side of the road, an obvious victim of violent crime. Or is it an ambush, perhaps?
The
priest and then the Levite cross to the other side to road to avoid the man. Thus
far, the Jewish listeners might consider this a proper, if slightly questionable
decision of expediency since they have religious duties to manage and avoiding
becoming unclean is of primary importance.
Then
a Samaritan comes down the road and the logic of the story breaks down. The
Samaritan’s presence makes no sense to his Jewish audience. He would not have
been welcome, or safe in Jerusalem among Jews celebrating Sabbath. What is
going on??
Nevertheless,
he sees the man in the ditch and pity moves him.
PITY.
On occasion, the committees who translate the old Greek NT manuscripts into
English make choices about how to express the deeper meaning of Greek words. (See
an earlier
post for more on this word.) To us,
pity, compassion, sympathy, loving kindness can all mean the same thing. But pity can also have the flavor of a sad
event, e.g., what a pity your dog died, or even be negative, e.g., “your excuse
is pitiful.”
The
Greek word described by “pity” is a special word. It is used about six or seven
times in the Gospels to describe the compassion Jesus feels towards a human who
is suffering, ill, or over the death of child. It is the strongest word for
compassion in biblical Greek. For the Greeks, the seat of deep emotion was the
gut, the bowels.
The
literal meaning of this word is having one’s entrails twisted, so the most
direct translation might be “gut-wrenching.” Have you ever had an intestinal
virus, if so, you may appreciate the power of the word.
For
us modern, delicate folks who think the heart is the seat of emotion, we could
say “heart-breaking compassion.” Either way, biblical Greek means, “divine
compassion.” It is the love that God has for humanity that moved God to
send to us the good news of how to live the good life through Jesus who defeated
death by dying. That victory left us with the most precious religious image of divine
compassion, the empty cross. Remember the lawyer is asking the answer about
gaining eternal life.
There
are two instances in parables where Jesus uses this word not to describe his
compassion but human compassion towards another person. One parable is the
man who had two sons, the older son and the prodigal son. The father saw
his prodigal son coming up the road home and was filled with divine regardless of
wasting his money. Most of us see the father symbolizing God and the two sons symbolizing
the Hebrews and the Gentiles (or Samaritans) coming home to the celebration of
salvation.
The
other parable is this one. The Samaritan, the hated heretic, sees and has
divine compassion for the wounded man (who is probably a Jew). He ignores the
potential danger of the robbers lurking nearby. He ignores that he is getting
bloody as he tends the man’s wounds and lifts the man onto his draft animal to
take him to an Inn. There he leaves a large sum of money for safekeeping the
man, promising to return to cover any more expense by the innkeeper.
Jesus
has the probably angry attention of the Jewish audience with this Samaritan becoming
the hero of the story.
Then
Jesus does his little trick. He answers the two questions of the lawyer, “How
do I inherit eternal life?” and “Who is my neighbor?” with a single question,
“Which of the three was the neighbor to the wounded man?” The lawyer replied
correctly, probably through clinched teeth, “I suppose the one who showed him
mercy.” Jesus says, “Go and do likewise.” (Left unstated but implied: “if you
want to inherit eternal life.”)
So,
is it so easy to be a good neighbor? Is it as a sarcastic question, or a
statement of faith, or both? The mission of the 70 preceding this parable carried
a message to share the peace focusing not on ego and self but the other person.
Jesus says this is what put the names of the disciples in the register of
Heaven.
To
seal that message, the parable states unavoidably that the Divine compassion
the Lord has for us is exactly the compassion we should have for each other. You
cannot escape this conclusion.
Love
the Lord with every part of your being, love your neighbor the same way. Jesus
turned the tables on us, the man in the ditch is not your neighbor, you, like
the Samaritan, are the neighbor. The question becomes not, “Who is my
neighbor?” but “Am I a good neighbor?”
So,
“Is it so easy to be a good neighbor?” is not sarcasm but is a statement of what
our goal of behavior towards each other ought to be.
Did
the Samaritan expect a reward for treating a stranger as a friend? Jesus said
it is easy to love your friend, which may be sarcasm. We often treat strangers better
than we treat our friends and brothers and sisters.
The
true measure of grace is how well we love those who are not very friendly and
those with whom we disagree or are angry. It is the constant battle between ego
and humility. I know from personal experience how hard that battle is, and I’m
sure you all do also. But if we take one thing from this passage, it ought to
be that as Christians, we are in the business of having divine compassion
towards each other.
Amen.
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