Scripture Luke 10:25-37
An expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he said, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” He said to him, “What is written in the law? What do you read there?” He 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.” And he said to him, “You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.”
But wanting to vindicate himself, he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and took off, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road, and when he saw him he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan while traveling came upon him, and when he saw him he was moved with compassion. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, treating them with oil and wine. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. The 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.’ Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”
Meditation
Not long ago a video out of London grabbed my attention. It was an experiment. The question was: On a busy city street, with people passing by on their way to and from whatever they were doing that day, how long would it take for a passerby to help someone who was clearly not ok? Injured, unconscious?
The “clearly not ok” person was an actor. He’d stationed himself to the side of an archway that people walked through—during the morning rush to work, dozens of people, every few seconds. And the cameras rolled, and we the viewer watched. How long did it take? Long. It took a long time. In fact, they gave up the experiment before anyone stopped.
There’s something about a person in need that makes us uneasy. We all like to think we’d rush to someone’s aid, but the truth is, especially in a crowd, we are not at all likely to step out and do something no one else is doing—especially when it comes to approaching an unknown person. Even when they appear to be hurt. Even when they’re clearly not ok. The pressure is on to walk on by because we can’t quite believe that person is our neighbor, especially when no one else is making a move. [The Bystander Effect, YouTube].
“Who is my neighbor?” That question is posed to Jesus in the story we’ve just heard from the gospel according to Luke. We find Jesus on the road to Jerusalem today, and he is being questioned—actually, he’s being tested—by an expert in the law. The man asks him: What must I do to inherit eternal life?
Jesus answers the question with a question. “What does the law say?” which is to say, what does God’s law say? The expert, of course, gives the correct answer. Love. Love God, heart and soul, mind and strength. Love neighbor, as you love yourself. Jesus approves, affirms the man’s answer. Do this, and you will live.
But the expert isn’t satisfied. He wants to “justify himself,” which is to say, he wants Jesus to be more specific—more specific than the law. He wants an answer that will be comfortable, because then, he’ll know all the specific criteria to apply to any given situation. He wants to narrow things down a bit. So, he presses Jesus. “Who is my neighbor?”
So, Jesus tells him a story.
A man is going down from Jerusalem to Jericho. At this point the crowd begins to murmur and shake their heads, because the road from Jerusalem to Jericho is terrible. It’s 17 miles or so long, and it drops about 3,600 feet in elevation over the length of the journey. It’s steep, it’s rocky, and because it descends into a kind of canyon, any travelers are easy prey for bandits. In the time of Jesus, it was known as “the way of blood.” So the crowd knows what’s going to happen, and it does. The man is attacked, beaten, stripped of all his wealth which includes his garments, and left for dead.
A priest comes along, and the crowd probably assumes the priest will get some help for the man, if not offering direct help. All temple priests are descendants of Aaron, Moses’ brother. Moses and Aaron and their sister Miriam are Levites, descendants of Jacob’s third son. Surely such a person would help? But he doesn’t. In fact, he crosses over to the other side of the road, to get as far away from the injured man as he can. I told the Bible Study this week that it was probably because he didn’t want to risk ritual impurity, which would have made him unable to serve in the Temple for a period of time. And it is true that priests were forbidden from touching corpses. But this priest was also going from Jerusalem towards Jericho, so he was not planning to serve in the Temple any time soon.
Next, a Levite comes along. Levites also serve in the Temple, but in different capacities than priests. They do not perform rituals or make offerings or issue blessings. Rather, they are the musicians, the gatekeepers, and the guards. But this man also crosses the road to avoid coming into contact with the injured man.
Those who are listening to the story are eager to hear this next part. That’s because they know who Jesus is going to bring into the story next: An Israelite! Clearly, Jesus starts with the most exclusive group—the priests—and then moves onto the next highest ranking, the Levite. But the hero of the story is going to be someone just like them: an Israelite. They are brimming with excitement.
But then Jesus says, “Then a Samaritan comes along.” There are gasps in the crowd. Not only, NOT an Israelite, but their sworn enemy, a Samaritan?
The history between Jews and Samaritans is a long one, and that’s because it is a family history. Family fights are always the worst fights. Take one civil war just after the time of Solomon, add invasion by the Assyrians, and the Samaritans are the product of both changes in worship and intermarriage. By the time of Jesus, the Samaritans are hated by Israelites. They are not regarded as Israelites at all, even though they are descendants of ten of the tribes that came from Jacob’s sons. Samaritans are the bad guys.
“Then a Samaritan comes along??” It’s offensive. It’s horrifying!
But that’s how the story goes. A Samaritan while traveling comes upon the injured man, and he is moved with compassion. He turns aside from whatever his plans were and goes to the man. He treats his wounds with wine to cleanse them and oil to soften them. He puts the man on his animal, probably a donkey, and takes him to an inn, where he continues to care for him. The next day he gives the equivalent of two days’ wages—at a $15 minimum wage, say, about $250—to the innkeeper to pay for any further care the man needs. And he tells the innkeeper that he will return to the inn on his way home to pay whatever else is owed.
So, Jesus says to the expert in the law, which of the three do you think was a neighbor to the man? The lawyer can’t even bring himself to say the word, “Samaritan.” Instead, he says, “the one who showed him mercy.” Right you are, says Jesus. Be like the Samaritan. Go and do likewise.
“Who is my neighbor?” That is the question at the heart of this parable. And, in truth, it’s the question at the heart of a lot of decisions we are called upon to make in our day-to-day lives. Where will our money go? What do we think is a good or poor use of our tax money? How shall we respond to strangers in duress, whether we see them lying on the pavement on our way to work, or they come and ring the doorbell of the church?
“Who is my neighbor?” Is my neighbor the most popular girl in school? The nerd who stumbles over his words? The kid nobody talks to? The kid who’s always angry?
“Who is my neighbor?” That is the question at the heart of the news story about a plane full of fifty Venezuelan refugees who were flown to Martha’s Vineyard this week, where nobody expected them. Who do you think acted as a neighbor to those people?
“Who is my neighbor?” According to Jesus our neighbor is the last person we expect. Our neighbor is our best friend and our worst enemy. Our neighbor is the person with the Trump sign and the person with the Biden sign. Our neighbor is the person with the gay and trans pride flag and the person with the confederate flag. Our neighbor is the one who can trace their ancestry back to the Mayflower and the one who is of Onondaga ancestry and the one who arrives at the border with not much more than the clothes on their back.
Our neighbor is every person who is made in the image of God, which is to say, every single person. And our world won’t change, and our country won’t heal, until every single one of us signs onto this truth. Everyone is our neighbor. Everyone is our neighbor.
Thanks be to God. Amen.