Sermon - July 14, 2019 - "Looking for a Loophole"

Luke 10:25-37 – Intro to the Story of the Good Samaritan

In the passage we read from Luke’s gospel two weeks ago,

where Jesus set his face towards Jerusalem, we followed Jesus and his disciples on their first stop on the journey - into the land of Samaria.

We’re told that the Samaritans rejected Jesus and his message –

and the disciple’s immediate reaction was to ask Jesus, “Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?”

Quite a strong reaction we might think, until we consider the history that existed between the Samaritans and the Judeans.

Historically, Samaritans were the remnants of Israel's northern tribes that remained after the Kingdom of Israel fell to Assyria.

Anyone who held power, had status or influence was sent off into exile.

Those who remained – those who lacked any power or status -  eventually intermarried with the occupying Assyrians, effectively "diluting" their culture and their faith.

Samaritans henceforth were viewed as a "mixed race," who lacked a true connection with the God of Israel.

When those who had been exiled returned to Judea and rebuilt the Temple in Jerusalem, the Samaritans objected,

because they believed after the destruction of Jerusalem, God came to reside in their land on the top of Mount Gerizim.

Because there could be only one true place to encounter and worship God, and the Judeans and the Samaritans disagreed on where that was, the two nations reviled each other and built up numerous cultural walls to keep from interacting with one another.

Hostility between the two groups came to a violent climax in 111 B.C.E when the Judean king destroyed the Samaritans' temple.

There’s little wonder why Jesus and his disciples were faced with stony rejection when they visited the Samaritan village.

And little wonder that the tale of the Good Samaritan that appears in Luke’s gospel was considered one of the most radical stories of its time.

Who is our neighbor?

Our neighbor is the one whom we fear and distrust the most,

and the one we are commanded to love as much as we love ourselves.

The Rev. Maureen R. Frescott

Congregational Church of Amherst, UCC

July 14, 2019 – Fifth Sunday after Pentecost

Luke 10:25-37

“Looking for a Loophole”

A doctor, a lawyer, and a priest walk into a bar...

the bartender looks up and says, "What is this, a joke?"

Actually it is…

A doctor, a lawyer, and a priest walked into a bar,

to meet one of their oldest acquaintances.

the man said to them, “I found out today that I don’t have long to live.

So I asked the three of you here because you’re the most important people in my life.

I want to be buried with my fortune but I don’t trust my relatives to handle it.

I am going to give each of you an envelope with $500,000 dollars in it.

When I die, I want the three of you to put the money in my grave."

A few weeks later the man passed away.

After the burial, the doctor, the lawyer, and the priest met up at the bar.

The doctor said, "I have to honest with you all, I kept $300,000 dollars of the man’s money to cover his medical bills. But I put the other $200,000 in the envelope and dropped it in his grave."

The Priest said, "I must confess, I also kept $300,000 dollars of the man’s money to help feed and clothe the poor as a last good deed in his name.

But I put the rest in the envelope and dropped it in the grave as well."

The Lawyer couldn’t believe what he was hearing, he said,

"I am surprised at the both of you for not honoring this man’s dying wish.

The envelope I dropped in the grave contained the entire amount –

in the form of a check I made out in his name."

Often in jokes like this one,

where three different people are presented with a similar choice –

only one of the three has the honor of delivering the punch line –

proving himself – or the others - to be greedy or dishonest, foolish or naïve, or less than a model and moral citizen.

And when the named trio includes a doctor, a priest, and a lawyer,

more often than not, it’s the lawyer who comes off as the least virtuous of the three.

My sincere apologies to the lawyers in our midst.

I tell you this, because:

1)   A lawyer plays an instigating role in Jesus’ telling of the parable of the Good Samaritan

2)   The three people-three responses structure of jokes like these may help us better understand Jesus’ parable – when we consider the actions of the Levite, the Priest, and the Samaritan.

To our first point, the lawyer in this story gets a bit of a bad rap.

Often he’s presented as conniving or lacking in faith

when he asks Jesus, “Teacher what must I do to inherit eternal life?”

It seems as if he’s looking for a “To Do List” – a well-defined inventory of action items he can check off to ensure that he receives the reward of living eternally in God’s presence.

When Jesus says to him,

“You KNOW the law, what does our scripture have to say about this?”

The lawyer responds correctly, when he quotes the words of Deuteronomy and Leviticus and says,

“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength…and love your neighbor as yourself.”

But THEN the lawyer asks a follow-up question that may leave us saying,

“Ah ha, he’s looking for a loophole.”

He asks, “And who is my neighbor?”

He may as well have asked,  “Who is NOT my neighbor?”

Because the question itself assumes that not everyone is included.

“Who is it that we MUST love, and who is it that we can get away with NOT loving?”

Whom should we treat with respect, and offer mercy, grace, and compassion – and whom can we write off as undeserving of all of the above –

because they’ve wronged us in some way or it’s just too hard for us to do?

The lawyer who confronts Jesus is often chastised for asking this question, because he seems to be looking for a loophole that will make the work of gaining eternal life easier and less costly for those who desire it.

But if we had the knowledge of scripture that this lawyer does, we would understand that the question he’s asking is a legitimate one.

Leviticus 19 clearly says, “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

And the Torah – and the wisdom writings - and the books of the prophets had much to say about welcoming the stranger and treating aliens who resided in the Israelite’s land as if they too were full members of the tribe,

by offering them hospitality, mercy, and compassion.

But in other parts of the Hebrew scripture there are clear distinctions made between neighbor and stranger.

Between citizens and sojourners.

Between those who are named as God’s chosen people,

and those who were named as their enemies.

So when the lawyer asks Jesus to clarify -  “And who is my neighbor?” –

he perhaps does so out of a sense of genuine curiosity and confusion -

about WHO is to be included on his list of “those I must love to inherit eternal life” - and who is not.

Jesus – in true Jesus fashion - responds with a parable.

He says, “A priest, a doctor, and a lawyer walk into a bar.”

He says a man is set upon by robbers on the road down from Jerusalem.

They beat him, stripped him, and left him for dead.

Three people then cross paths with this man on the road.

A priest, a Levite, and a Samaritan.

In case you haven’t already guessed, the Samaritan is playing the role of the lawyer here.

He is the despised and distrusted one.

The one whom upon mere mention would have every head in the crowd nodding – “Oh yeah, a Samaritan, we know where this story is going–

he’s going to show his true colors by being the conniving, dishonorable, hard-hearted villain that he is.”

But Jesus throws his listeners a curveball – because in THIS story the Samaritan is Good.

And it’s the Priest and the Levite who pass by on the other side.

Jesus has already caught his listeners off guard with this parable.

Because in his time there were versions of “a Priest and a Levite walk into a bar” stories, where the third person in the trio was always an Israelite.

The Israelites included all of God’s chosen people.

The Levites were one of the twelve tribes of the Israelites – the decedents of Aaron – who were set apart because they alone could become priests.

And the priests were the cream of the crop. The ones who had all the power and the prestige.

In the stories the common people told, it was often the Priest and the Levite who displayed their hypocritical holier than thou colors by showing indifference to pain and suffering, while the ordinary Israelite saved the day.

So in Jesus’ parable, not only is the heroic third person in this trio NOT the expected Israelite, and an UNexpected Samaritan,

he’s a GOOD Samaritan at that.

Think about how this qualifier came to be there.

The phrase “good” Samaritan appears nowhere in Luke’s original text.

That was added later by someone who felt the parable needed a title.

There’s no reason to label someone as a Good Samaritan unless the expectation is that the majority of Samaritans are bad.

We feel the need to qualify identities when they run counter to what we expect.

Like when we say male nurse or female firefighter instead just using the genderless term of nurse or firefighter.

While the phrase Good Samaritan has become part of our vernacular,

and now refers to anyone who comes to the aid of a stranger,

it was considered controversial and jarring to those early readers who understood the context.

Which is what made it such a good title.

Because it reflected Jesus’ ability to take a familiar story and flip it on its head.

To get his listener’s attention.

To get them to stop and think about ingrained ways of thinking that were more harmful than helpful.

To get them riled up and arguing back at him because they were offended by his insinuation that they were somehow wrong in their assessment of the hated other….

Because it hit too close too home.

And required too much self-examination and change in their understanding of fairness, and restitution, and grace.

“Who is my neighbor?” the lawyer asked.

Jesus said, “Who was a neighbor to the one who had been left for dead?”

The man said, “The one who showed him mercy.”

Jesus said, “Go, and do likewise.”

The story of the Good Samaritan is all about mercy.

The story has become so familiar to us, and we love exploring its many layers, and putting ourselves in the shoes of its many players.

The priest and the Levite who show indifference to suffering.

The Samaritan who sets aside prejudice to help someone in need.

The man in the ditch, who does the same when he accepts help from the enemy.

We want to make the story about overcoming hatred,

or helping those in need,

or moving ourselves from a place of apathy and indifference.

But in the end, it’s all about mercy –

being moved by our innate desire to care for one another,

just as we care for ourselves and those we love the most.

Mercy is about offering understanding and grace, without hesitation.

Without looking for a loophole.

Without asking what’s in it for me.

Without questioning whether it’s deserved.

Without concern that we’re being manipulated in some way.

Without fear of falling into the hands of robbers ourselves.

Offering mercy to a neighbor – and an enemy - is one of the hardest things we’re called to do.

And we’re going to fail at it.

More often than not.  And God knows that.

The thing about Jesus’ parables is they’re often as much about helping us to understand God as they are about helping us to understand ourselves.

God offers us mercy and grace, unconditionally.

God is forever picking us up off the side of the road, bandaging our wounds, and offering us healing….even when we’re convinced we haven’t earned it.

What must we do to inherit the life of eternal love and grace that we so desire?

Go and do likewise.

Thanks be to God, and Amen.