Sermon - Changing the Question

Preached on July 14, 2013 at First Congregational Church of Tallmadge, Ohio, UCC.

Scripture: Luke 10:25-37

  ²⁵Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he said, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” ²⁶He said to him, “What is written in the law? What do you read there?” ²⁷He answered, “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.” ²⁸And he said to him, “You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.” ²⁹But 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 traveling 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.”

Sermon

It is a Jewish tradition to hold great discussions – spirited, questioning, testing, even arguing discussions -  about the scriptures, also called the law. These are discussions about how to interpret the scripture for our lives today, and we in the Christian faith continue this tradition in our own ways. In survey after survey of churchgoers about what they want from a sermon, the top answer is not history or information, not encouragement or inspiration, but simply this: apply it to our lives today.

That's what the lawyer asked of Jesus. The lawyer here is a student of the law – the scriptures – and was probably eager for any chance to discuss the law with a rabbi.  In this case it is the traveling rabbi called Jesus.  “Teacher,” he says, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”

Eternal life: a good place to begin the discussion. How do we inherit eternal life? Who must we be to receive eternal life? And maybe we should start with “what is eternal life?” because it is not only about life after our death, but is really about life right now.  Eternal life is a life lived in tune with the eternal God here and now. How do we receive that kind of life? How do we live that way?

And Jesus answers this question with his own question: “what is written in the law? What do you read there?”  It's typical for Jesus, in the tradition of good rabbis, to answer a question with a question.

There's an old joke about a rabbi whose disciple became so frustrated he finally burst out: “Teacher, why do you answer every question with another question?” The rabbi thought for a moment, and then answered, “why not?”

Jesus answers with a question: “what is written in the law? What do you read there?”

And the lawyer, who is a good student of the law, gives a good answer. “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and all of your soul, and all of your strength, and all of your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.”

But that's kind of abstract, isn't it? Love your neighbor: what does that look like? And just how big a neighborhood are we talking about? Do I need to love the people next door, or do I need to go as far as my whole street, or is it bigger than that?

So a second question from the lawyer to the rabbi, as he tries to  measure the extent of the law, and to delineate its requirements: “And who is my neighbor?” 

This time, Jesus tells a little story, called a parable. The parable is both familiar and shocking, and by the time we reach the end of it, Jesus hasn't just answered a question with a question, he has changed the question, and the parable changes us.

First, the scene: a man is walking from Jerusalem, which was up on a protected mountaintop, down to Jericho, which is a downhill walk of about 16 miles through rocky terrain, and widely known to be a dangerous but often necessary walk to take.  He falls into the hands of robbers who strip him, beat him, and leave him for dead.

This man, whoever he is, lies on the side of the road: wounded, broke, and half-dead.

We don't know anything about him. Is he a Jew? Is he married? Is he old, or young? Does he have children? Who are his friends? Maybe he looks like the old man who lost his house to Hurricane Sandy: stripped of his home, the photos of his children when they were young - all gone, as are the letters his wife had written to him during the war; his spirit is beaten. Maybe the man on the side of the road looks like the woman who shows up at the battered women's shelter: bruised, scarred, afraid of how she will support the two children she's brought with her, and of what her family and friends will think because they never knew the truth all these years. Maybe he looks like the person who visits the hospital once a week for treatment of a terminal diagnosis: fragile, labored breathing, money gone because the insurance had lapsed, feeling half-dead.

Whatever he looks like, he lies on the side of the road, and it must be hard to tell if he is even alive because the priest sees him and then takes a wide way around. And also a Levite, who was one of the assistants in the Temple (an associate pastor, if you will, or liturgist). He also sees this man and takes the wide way around.

Many have wondered about the motivation of the Priest and the Levite. They both serve in the Temple, so they should know about the commandment to love our neighbors – there is a tragic irony in their passing by. But they also know that if the man is dead, and if they have touched him to find out, then they will be ritually unclean for some time and unable to serve in the Temple, unable to receive their wages. They aren’t nurses or paramedics, and surely someone more qualified will be along. Maybe they are simply in a hurry.

Finally, a Samaritan comes near, and when he sees him, he is moved with pity, Jesus says. But this is not a condescending kind of pity. This is understanding; this is empathy; this is compassion, which literally means “to suffer with.”

Why was he moved with compassion? Perhaps it’s because he wasn’t in a hurry and had time to empathize. Perhaps it’s because, as a Samaritan, he knew what it was like to be treated with suspicion, to be avoided for the sake of ritual cleanliness, to be treated as if half-dead, or at least not equally alive. 

Jews and Samaritans were bitter rivals. They had religious disagreements (Jews held that the proper location of worship was the mountain of Jerusalem and the Temple – the Samaritans said another mountain), but they may have had other grievances and used religion as their excuse and rationale. Jews didn’t interact with Samaritans. In a way, Samaritans were seen as less than fully human. So this Samaritan knew what it felt like to be ignored, in need, half-dead.

Moved with compassion, the Samaritan cleans the man's wounds with oil, and disinfects with wine, and carries him on his own animal to an inn where he can rest and be safe, and he covers the costs.

Finally, the question: Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?  It's not hard to answer, but the lawyer answers anyway: “the one who showed him mercy.”

Jesus takes the question “who is my neighbor?” and he changes the question. How can you be a neighbor to others? How can you be a neighbor to the one who moves you to feel empathy, the one who stirs your compassion? How can you be a neighbor by giving what you have to give, not as a requirement for getting eternal life, but just because the doing of it is in tune with the eternal God who creates and sustains us, which is what eternal life really is.

Eternal Life is the quality of life that is in tune with God’s divine Spirit, a life which gives heart, soul, strength and mind to God in love of God and a life given in love to our neighbors.

To hear Jesus answer the question about finding eternal life by telling a story about a Samaritan, who was obviously a neighbor to the man in need, who had thereby inherited eternal life…It changes the question.  It reorients our way of thinking about religion. Instead of spending our time trying to be sure that we have all of the right beliefs and ideas and ethical judgments and have met all the requirements, what if our religion is the practice of allowing ourselves to have compassion and then to follow our compassion and see what it leads us to do.

The parable of the Good Samaritan is a story of what is most awful in life but also what is most wonderful. Yes, life can be dangerous, and there is injury and hurt and tragedy. But life is also blessed: The gift of receiving help when we are hurt; the gifts of comforting words and a tender touch, healing work and shared resources. And there is the gift of you being the one who notices a hurt and offering whatever you have in your life to make things well, to shine a light in the darkness, to speak a word of grace in the silence of fear. That is the love of God, given to neighbors, and that is eternal life. Go and do likewise. You get to do that too.