Saturday, July 09, 2022

Risking compassion when no one is watching

Everybody knows this story, right? Everybody knows what a Good Samaritan is: a person who goes out of their way to help. In some big cities, the tow trucks who come and help you when your car breaks down in rush hour are called “Samaritans.” We have Good Samaritan laws and Good Samaritan hospitals. We all know that any charitable act makes us Good Samaritans.

The story of the Good Samaritan is so familiar that it has become the basis for parody. Comics and cartoons refer to the story all the time. Even people who only use their hotel Gideon Bibles as coasters for their beers know this story.

The story contrasts the two who did not help with the one who did. To Jesus’ audience, the most righteous people imaginable pass by the injured man, but the one we would not touch with a ten-foot stick is the who comes to help.

Jesus’ story is really focused not on the helper but on those who avoided helping the wounded man.

We all want to help, right? We want to be like the Samaritan, right? So let’s hiss and boo the bad guys!

And yet, we often walk on by. I know I’ve done it! I’ve fixed my gaze straight ahead waiting for the light to turn when I see a homeless man with a cardboard sign seeking help… and I’m in a hurry. I know, I know! There’s a time and place for everything… but still!

Today’s Gospel comes along like a spiritual Jethro Gibbs and gives me a wake-up slap on the back of the head. Jesus’ story forces me to get out of my own head and think about the victim! You know, the guy who was beaten, robbed, and left for dead.

You know, I have a hunch. My hunch is that at one time or another all of us, at some time or another, been the one in need of a Good Samaritan… the one in desperate need of help.

That might seem a reach. Maybe not.

Once, a long, long time ago, when I was a teenager, I was mugged. For a suburban kid, who thought he was just going to a car show in a big city with his friend, this was a shocking experience. There was a guy who saw what happened, came up and asked us if we were alright, took us to a safe place, called a police officer and then our parents, then sat with us until they came to drive us home. To me, he was a Godsend!

Or the time when my college friend and I were travelling in Germany during the winter break of our junior year abroad and we got lost in Munich. We needed to get back to the train station, but how? An old man (heck, he was probably my age now, but he seemed ancient then!) saw our plight, and while we spoke next to no German and he not a word of English, helped us. We communicated with hand gestures and by pointing to our tourist map. When the next streetcar came, he spoke to the conductor, told him what we needed, paid our fare, and sent us on our way.

I have many more such stories of being helped or even rescued by total strangers and I am sure that you do too! They all remind us that we are all, at one time or another, found ourselves in a situation where we were as helpless as the victim in Jesus’ parable. Even today, we all come to this table with cupped hands seeking the true bread that gives life and saves us from desolation and despair.

But Jesus kicks it up a notch… imagine being the person in need and suddenly finding that the person who helped you was your sworn enemy! That is the startling starting point of Jesus’ teaching.

Rabbi Jesus frames the Samaritan, the sworn enemy, as the guy who helps the injured Jew unconditionally, lavishly even, while the demonstrably good people walked on by.

This is how God’s surprising grace and mercy is shown to all God’s people.

And that’s why we still tell Jesus’ story after all these generations because it illustrates the truth of God’s mercy. God’s love is poured out for us unconditionally, with no strings attached. God meets us at the point of our deepest need, and we are to embody that in our ethics and relationships.

Compare the Samaritan in Jesus’ story to some of the pop-psych, pop-philosophy of our day. It is a weak gruel of self-centeredness by comparison. I am certain that if someone who read or lived something like, for example, The Four Agreements would come across the injured man and, deciding not to make assumptions and not to take things personally… would walk on past, because except for a passing reference to love in the first of Don Miquel Luis’ view of a perfect life, there is nothing in that… or in many other pop philosophies… that talk about the kind of compassion that is that the heart of Jesus’ teachings, the Rabbinic traditions, and the rules of Francis of Assisi and Benedict of Nursia, or the examples of Mother Teresa of Calcutta or Dorothy Day. Jesus teaches us that loving our neighbor is a radical, self-less way of being.

So, if it is not about “me,” then who is our neighbor?

Dr. Amy-Jill Levine, a Jewish scholar who teaches about the Christian scriptures at Vanderbilt University reminds us that Jesus tells the parable of the good Samaritan in response to that very question: “…who is my neighbor?” (Lk 10:29).

The lawyer’s question has legal merit. One needs to know who our neighbors are, and so under the Law, and who are not. But in the context of love, his question is not relevant. According to Leviticus, love has to extend beyond the people in one’s group.

Leviticus 19 insists on loving the stranger as well. For our parable, the lawyer’s question is [again] misguided. To ask “Who is my neighbor?” is a polite way of asking, “Who is not my neighbor?” or “Who does not deserve my love?” or “Whose lack of food or shelter can I ignore?” or “Whom I can hate?” The answer Jesus gives is, “No one.”

Everyone deserves that love—local or alien, Jews or gentiles—everyone. Jesus takes us into the depths of God’s love. He answers the question “Who is my neighbor?” by giving us an unforgettable example of love in action....

And in so doing Jesus teaches us that the point of faith is to drive us out of fear and self-centeredness into action. To take the risk of compassion when no one is looking is perhaps the real test of our faith. Jesus teaches us that how we act behalf of the people who are hurt, lost, have no voice... the people like us that we meet on the way… is how faith and the love of God is best learned, lived, and communicated.

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Here is a link to the bulletin for the Fifth Sunday after Pentecost  at St. John's Episcopal Church, Clearwater

Here is a link to the Scripture readings.

Here is a link to a video of the sermon.

Here is a link to a video of the liturgy.

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