| Luke 10:29-37 "Its A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood" |
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| Written by Rev. Don Lee | |
| Saturday, 08 September 2007 | |
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Here’s a question for you. What is essential? What really matters? (pause) Let me read you something that might bring some clarity. This author writes: When I was a kid, I was shy and overweight. I was a perfect target for ridicule. One day (how well I remember that day, and its more than sixty years ago!), we got out of school early, and I started to walk home by myself. It wasn’t long before I sense I was being followed-by a whole group of boys. As I walked faster, I looked around, and they started to call my name and came closer and closer and got louder and louder. “Freddy, hey, fat Freddy. We’re going to get you, Freddy.” I resented those kids for not seeing beyond my fatness or my shyness. And I didn’t know that it was all right to resent it, to feel bad about it, even to feel very sad about it. I didn’t know it was all right to feel any of those things, because the advice I got from grown-ups was, “Just let on you don’t care, then nobody will bother you.” What I actually did was mourn. I cried to myself whenever I was alone. I cried through my fingers as I made up songs on the piano. I sought out stories of other people who were poor in spirit, and I felt for them. I started to look behind the things that people did and said; and little by little, concluded that Saint-Exupery was absolutely right when he wrote in The Little Prince, “What is essential is invisible to the eyes.” So after a lot of sadness, I began a lifelong search for what is essential, what it is about my neighbor that doesn’t meet the eye. “Let on you don’t care, then nobody will bother you.” Those who gave me that advice were well meaning people; but, of course, I did care, and somehow along the way I caught the belief that God cares, too; that the divine presence cares for those of us who are hurting and that presence is everywhere. I don’t know exactly how this came to me, maybe through one of my teachers or the town librarian, maybe through a musician or a minister-definitely across some holy ground. And, of course, it could have come from the grandfather I was named for: Fred McFeely, who used to say to me after we’d had a visit together, “Freddy, you made this day a special day for me.” My hunch is that the beginning of my belief in the caring nature of God came from all of those people-all of those extraordinary, ordinary people who believed that I was more than I thought I was-all those saints who helped a fat, shy kid to see more clearly what was really essential. P.18-21 The author? Rev. Fred Rogers! The book? “Life’s Journey’s According to Mister Rogers.” Granted, Mister Rogers is more often the subject of parody, like Eddie Murphy’s SNL rendition of a street wise, neighbor-in-the-hood! Parody aside, Fred Rogers raises a provocative question. “What is essential? What really matters?” It’s the same question the parable of the Good Samaritan so aptly raises. Our scripture reading comes from Luke 10:29-37. As you are able please stand for the reading of the Gospel: 29 But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, ‘And who is my neighbor?’ 30Jesus 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. 31Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. 32So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. 33But a Samaritan while travelling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. 34He 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. 35The 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.” 36Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?’ 37He said, ‘The one who showed him mercy.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Go and do likewise.’ Prayer: Holy Spirit, open our eyes, our ears, our minds, and our hearts to receive whatever Good News you have for us this morning. Amen. It begins as a test, an attempt to discredit Jesus. “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” (vs. 25) The answer prompted by Jesus comes from the Shema, a profession of faith every orthodox Jew repeats twice daily (now as then). Shema Yisrael Adonai eloheinu Adonai ehad Hear O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One…and you shall love God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength and all your mind.” –Dt. 6:4-5 Its sister commandment adds, “And your neighbor as yourself.” (Leviticus 19:18). Did you hear that? Instead of what you believe, the way to eternal life says Jesus has to do with what you do…(love God, love others). “Do this, and you will live.” (vs. 28). Our actions more then our beliefs define us. The lawyer isn’t satisfied. He wants this “love” qualified. “Who am I obligated to love?” Jesus answers with a parable. You know the story; a traveler is beaten, robbed and left for dead. Over the course of the day three people happen upon him. Two pass on by, a priest and a Levite. The third, a Samaritan stops and renders aid. The point is not that Samaritans can be nice and priests and Levites, jerks. Levitical law forbade priests and Levites from fulfilling their socially prescribed roles after having touched the dead. The question is not “who is my neighbor?” Who am I obligated to help? What are the limits of compassion?” Rather, according to Jesus, the question is, "Am I a good neighbor?” The literal meaning of the word “neighbor” in the original language means "to be near." In answer to the question, “who is the neighbor; who is the one who comes near?” it has to be the one who stops to help. The others widened the distance between them and the man in the ditch. State Farm’s old slogan is right, “Good neighbors are there for you.” Last week I was talking to Tom Miller, one of our members. We were discussing the new book about Mother Teresa and how human suffering causes us to wonder where God is. Suddenly I had one of those AHA moments! Imagine having the kind of humility Mother Teresa had, to do the kinds of things she did, to take diseased, dirty, feces covered lepers from the gutters of Calcutta, wash and tend their wounds, and clothe them so they could die with dignity. Wouldn’t that humility blind you to the possibility that Jesus is in fact present in human suffering “through you?” There’s no doubt in my mind that the people Mother Teresa pulled from the gutters of Calcutta would reply, “I have seen the Lord! She stopped and bandaged my wounds, took me to safety, and washed, fed, and clothed me so I could die like a human being.” To the parable’s original hearers, the priest and Levite were the “good guys,” and the thieves and Samaritan, the “bad guys.” The enmity between the Samaritans and Jews was akin to the enmity between Protestants and Catholics in Northern Ireland; there’s a long history behind it. Thus Jesus is being his characteristically subversive self by having a despised Samaritan play the good guy! So despised are the Samaritans by Jews, the lawyer can’t even bring himself to describe the Samaritan in these terms. When asked “who was the neighbor?” instead of responding “the Samaritan,” the lawyer can only bring himself to reply, “The one who showed mercy.” Vs. 37 It reminds me of a story related by Father Gerry Pierse: A preacher, speaking a group of students, told the following story; A student took the boat from Iligan to study in Cebu. Soon after the boat pulled out from the shore she found that her bag with her money and all of her belongings were gone. Obviously, some one had stolen them and taken them ashore at the very moment they were leaving. She felt totally abandoned and powerless and began to cry. After some time a politician came along. When he heard her story he said that what happened was a disgrace and he would advise the owner of the shipping line to place more security guards to protect the passengers. A priest also heard about what happened and told her that it was indeed terrible how people now-a-days have no respect for honesty. He promised to pray for her. All this time there was a Muslim chewing betle nut on a cot nearby. After a while he came over and offered her some of his food. Before they reached Cebu he said to her. "I know you will find it difficult to get to your relatives' place on arrival in Cebu. Please take this [money] to use for your fare when you get there." Then the preacher asked the students, "which of these three - the politician, the priest or the Muslim - was a Christian to her?" The students shouted back in unison, "The Muslim, of course." As soon as they had spoke it, they seemed shocked at what they themselves had said. I realize in this post 9-11 era to suggest a Muslim could set a Christian example might feel odd or wrong, especially when someone like the extremist, Bin Laden warns us to convert to Islam or suffer the consequences! But every time someone labels Muslims as inherently bad, I am reminded of the 3700 American men and women of our military who have bravely given their lives for what is, for all intensive purposes, a nation of Muslims. And I know not everyone would agree that this is why we are in Iraq, but I believe if so, then it is both a disservice to the Iraqi people and the soldiers who have died there to label Muslims as inherently evil or bad. In a speech the day before he was assassinated, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. suggested that the question the Levite in the Good Samaritan parable asked himself was, “What is it going to cost me if I stop?” Jesus flipped this question on its head, King said, asking instead, “What is it going to cost my neighbor if I don’t stop?” And I am so thankful that despite the cost Dr. King stopped to help a people enslaved by a system of apartheid, a system that might still be in place today had he “passed by on the other side.” God’s loves, so we care! Some people make me feel bad about myself. Not because they are unkind, judgmental, critical, shaming or even mean spirited. Quite the contrary: They are kind and generous, forgiving, loving, compassionate (to a fault). They make me feel bad about myself because of who I am in light of who they are. God’s light shines so brightly in them, it reveals my own failure, flaws and sin. But hear this: Their lives proclaim that I have the potential to be much more then I am now. They are my good Samaritans, my superheroes. • This parable doesn’t let us make comfortable assumptions, • It doesn’t allow us to dismiss those who make us angry, frightened, or uncomfortable. • It doesn’t allow us to neglect those activities that make our love for God concrete. • It doesn’t overlook our prejudice (our tendency to prejudge people based on the labels society places on them). I say we skip the labels and treat people as human beings. • Nor does it allow us to cheapen the Gospel by treating it as if it didn’t make costly demands of us. Its does! Jesus calls us to “draw near” to those we think we’d rather not have any contact with. Our unwillingness to do so might be the death of us. The Good News is our willingness to draw near to others leads to life. “Do this and you shall live,” said Jesus. What really matters? Writes Fred Rogers: The older I get, the more I come to understand that the things we possess can never bring us ultimate happiness. Contrary to what’s implied in commercials, nothing we buy can ever take away our loneliness or fill our emptiness or heal our brokenness. You know yourself-way down deep-that what really matters is how we live this life with our neighbors (those who we happen to be with at the moment). That’s what really matters. That’s really all that matters. |
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