The Unexpected Hero (Rev. Dr. Charley Reeb)
It has been a very difficult week for us. We carry into worship with us today a collective burden. The shootings in Utah, Colorado and San Francisco have ignited in us overwhelming feelings of anger, fear and grief. These acts of violence have not only claimed lives, but they have deepened the wounds of division within our communities and nation. We find ourselves questioning the very fabric of our society.
We feel lost and unsure how to move forward. We wonder how we can heal in a world that is so polarized and fiercely divided. How do we foster understanding and compassion when fear often drives us apart? How do we bridge the chasms that divide us when our instinct so often is to retreat into our corners?
What adds to the burden for many of us who claim to follow Christ is that we are called to be instruments of peace in this world. We are called to be the light of Christ and show the world a more excellent way. But how do we do that when even the Church itself is so divided? The world is looking to us to model the healing and reconciliation it desperately needs and yet when folks look to Christians today they often see nothing but more rancor and division. The Church often looks like the rest of the world. No wonder so many feel hopeless!
Yet, our call to be God’s redemptive agents in this world will not let us go. Our charge to be the hands and feet of Christ is needed now more than ever. If we, as Christians, don’t lead the way to reconciliation and peace, who will? The time is now for us to come together as people of faith. For our call at this moment goes beyond differences of opinion, politics, and even doctrine. We are either followers of Christ or we are not. And, if we are, we must act like it, because, as a public leader has stated, “We have to find an off ramp or it’s going to get much, much worse…and every single one of us gets to choose right now if this is a turning point for us.”
But the question is how do we do it? How do we find that off ramp? How do we lead the way to healing and peace when everything is coming apart at the seams? How do we give the world hope when we feel so hopeless?
I believe with all my heart there is a way forward for us if we have the courage to do it. There is an off ramp for us if we are willing to take it. And it can be found in the most misunderstood parable that Jesus ever told – The Parable of the Good Samaritan.
Lay aside everything you think you know about this parable. When we put the parable under the microscope it is far more complex and revolutionary than we imagine. And it contains a lesson we desperately need right now if we want things to change.
The context of the parable is intriguing. An expert in the Jewish Law threw out a question to Jesus:
An expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” –Luke 10:25
The lawyer’s question is a good one but his motive for asking it is not. The text says the man was trying to test Jesus. He’s putting Jesus on trial.
This man wasn’t there to gain wisdom from Jesus. He had an agenda. He wanted to see if Jesus believed the same thing he believed. He was there to see if Jesus was in his camp. Does that sound familiar? Our whole country right now is divided in camps of politics, opinions and beliefs. “If you believe what I believe, if you share my politics, we are friends, but if you don’t share my beliefs and politics, you are my enemy, you are the despised, you are a monster…”
Jesus was clever in his response to the man. Jesus responded by asking him a question:
“What is written in the Law?” he replied. “How do you read it?” –Luke 10:26
In other words, Jesus was saying, “You’re an expert in the Law. You should know this. What does it say?” He replied to Jesus by quoting what every Jew knew – the greatest commandment.
He answered, “‘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, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’” –Luke 10:27
The lawyer gives the answer that lies at the heart of the Law and the heart of Judaism. This response combines Deuteronomy 6:5 and Leviticus 19:18. This summed up the entire Hebrew Scriptures – love God with all that you are and all that you have and love your neighbor as yourself. Jesus responded by saying:
“You have answered correctly,” Jesus replied. “Do this and you will live.” –Luke 10:28
But the man would not give up easily. The lawyer could not let it go, and Luke once again reveals motive of the man by saying that the lawyer now sought “to justify himself.”
…he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” –Luke 10:29
Adam Hamilton says that what the man was really asking was, “Who don’t I have to love?” He was saying, “Okay, I hear you Jesus. Love my neighbor as myself. But really? Who is my neighbor? Does that mean everybody? Surely, there is a limit to who I must love, right Jesus? I mean, I don’t have to love everybody, right?”
Another scholar says the question “Who is my neighbor?” is all about limits, “a polite way of asking, ‘Who not my neighbor?’ or ‘who does not deserve my love?’ . . . or even ‘Whom can I hate?’”
And if you look at social media right now it is clear that is the question many are asking as they seek to post and comment. “Who can I hate? Who can I malign? Who can I demonize?”
But Jesus responded to the question by telling a story:
“A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead.” –Luke 10:30
The road this victim was traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho was well known. It was well traveled. It is about 17 miles long. Back in Jesus’ day robbers would often hide in caves along this road and injure and rob travelers. Everyone knew about this road and how dangerous it was, so Jesus’ listeners wouldn’t have been surprised to hear about this poor victim.
But notice that Jesus didn’t identify who the victim was. He doesn’t tell us where he is from, what he does, or what he is like. Jesus said that he was just a man. Why? Because that person could be any person in your life on any day. It could be your neighbor or co-worker. It could be the person who cut you off in traffic. It could be someone in your Sunday school class. It could be the cashier at the grocery store. It could be anyone who is in a ditch in life and needs help.
And you know what? The victim could be you. It could be me. It could be any one of us in a ditch desperately needing help.
Jesus continued with the story.
A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. –Luke 10:31-32
Two opportunities are given to people of faith, and two opportunities are lost.
Now, the original listeners of the story, especially the lawyer, expected a third character to be introduced but it’s not who you think. Anyone who was familiar with Judaism knew that if you heard about a priest and Levite, the third person would always be an Israelite, a lay person. It was automatic. A scholar notes it is like “Father, Son, and . . .Holy Spirit,” and “Larry, Moe, and . . .Curly.” Say, “‘priest, Levite, and . . .’ and everyone knows who is next: an “Israelite.”
But Jesus shocked them. And what he said next is so outlandish, so outrageous, that Jesus’ listeners couldn’t believe their ears.
But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’ –Luke 10:33-35
The third character isn’t an Israelite at all, but a despised enemy: a Samaritan. Instead of Larry, Moe, and Curly, a scholar says, “it goes ‘from Larry and Moe to Osama bin Laden.’”
That’s the whiplash, the jolt, the shock the audience would’ve felt when Jesus said “Samaritan.” This word does not mean much to us today, but to the Jews who heard Jesus speak, the name Samaritan was a dirty word. There were years and years of bad blood between them. To Jews, Samaritans were half breeds, half Jewish and half something else. They were not pure Jews because they married people of other races and brought in their own traditions to Judaism. This was unthinkable to a Jew. Today we talk of the good Samaritan, but the story didn’t sound that way to Jesus’ hearers. To a Jew there was nothing good about a Samaritan.
A Samaritan represented the “other” person, the outsider, one who was less than, one to be afraid of, one to hate, the despised, the rejected, the enemy.
Yet it was the Samaritan who, unlike the priest and the Levite, showed kindness and mercy to the victim in the ditch.
See what Jesus did? He made the “other” person, the one who is disliked, the outsider, the hated, the despised, the enemy the hero of the story.
It is the co-worker you can’t stand who ends up being the only one who visits you in the hospital. It is the neighbor who annoys you who brings food to your house when a loved one dies. It is the car with a Trump sticker that stops and helps a stranded motorist with a Biden sticker on his car and vice versa. When this happens, you can’t help but see the other person in a new way. You can’t help but see the other as a neighbor, as a child of God, just like you. You realize that when we are cut, we all bleed. When we are tickled, we all laugh. And when we are in pain, we all cry. We are all God’s creation, and we all need love.
So, then Jesus turned to his tester and said, “So, based on that story how would you define your neighbor? Who was the neighbor in that story?”
The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.” Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.” Luke 10:37
The lawyer couldn’t even say “Samaritan.”
One out of the three was willing to risk, to reach out with compassion to the victim in the ditch. And the irony is the Samaritan had more to risk than the other two. He was the hated, the mocked, the despised one, the one treated unfairly. He had every excuse to pass the victim by. More than likely, the victim would’ve preferred to be helped by the priest or Levite. The priest and Levite were respected clerics in society. Yet, it was the Samaritan who bandaged his wounds and took care of him.
It was the Samaritan who was able to look beyond the differences, the hate, the mistreatment, and truly see the victim as a human being in pain.
Why did Jesus make a hated Samaritan the hero of the story? Because the arrival and action of the Samaritan is the power of God’s kingdom that turns enemies into neighbors and changes the world by “using mercy to overcome alienation” (Tom Long).
The parable is about mercy overcoming alienation. Mercy overcomes alienation.
Church, that is the way forward right now. It is the only way forward. The only off ramp, if we are going to find peace, healing and reconciliation. A public leader has wisely stated: “When you stop having a human connection with someone you disagree with, it becomes a lot easier to commit violence.”
I will add that when we stop having a human connection with the people we disagree with it becomes easier to hate, and to assume, and to despise, and to malign, and to reject, and it becomes easier to betray our call to love God and neighbor.
You see, the Samaritan was the hero because he refused to let go of his human connection with the man in the ditch.
Mercy sees the person behind the politics. Mercy sees the person behind the position. Mercy sees the human being behind the hate. Mercy sees the human being behind the stereotype.
There was a time when we as Americans got this and lived it out so well. You want to know when? About 24 years ago, on September 12th, 2001. Do you remember who we were as a nation the days after 9/11? Do you remember our unity, our courage, our compassion, our mercy? Oh, how desperate we are for that right now!
Someone in this church experienced it first-hand. Her name is Lindsey Alley, and she grew up in this church. She lived in New York City and was in Times Square on the morning of September 11, 2001, when terrorists turned the World Trade Center into rubble. A few days after the attack, still dazed and upset, she got on the subway for the first time since the attack. It was packed, and not a word was spoken. She looked around for a place to hold on as the train moved, but all the poles and seats were covered with hands. There must have been a sense of deep disappointment on her face because a tall and muscular black man looked down at her, stuck out his bulging arm, and said, “Hold on to me. We have got to hold on to each other.” As she wrapped her small hands around his rock-solid arm, she tried to remember when she had felt something so strong and secure. Soon tears began to run down her cheek. Seeing her tears, the man decided to gently hold her until she got off the train.
Healing events like this occurred all over New York in the wake of the 9/11: strangers hugging strangers, black people hugging white people, Hispanic people hugging Asian people. Hate and prejudice gave way to mercy, love and compassion. Why? Because they had a human connection. Mercy overcomes alienation. Mercy sees the person behind the position. Mercy sees the person behind the politics. Mercy sees the human being behind the hate.
This is the way forward today. And we can do it. I know we can. You want to know why? Because it has already been done to us. For Jesus is really the Samaritan, the despised one, the enemy, the hated, the scorned, who saw us in a ditch and looked beyond our sin, our hate, and our scorn and took of hold of us and rescued us. And today, he looks at us and he looks at our nation with tears in his eyes and says, “Please, go and do likewise.” And this I know, for the Bible tells me so.