June 15, 2007

WHO IS MY NEIGHBOR?

Luke 10:25-37

I always find it a bit of a challenge to plan the preaching calendar for the summer. There is so much coming and going, it is impossible to plan a series of messages that requires much continuity. So I need the kind of series in which each message stands alone. What I have decided to do is to preach on Jesus’ parables. They were given in a variety of settings and to a variety of audiences. While there are some common themes and some common principles of interpretation which we will discuss, each one is capable of standing on its own. I will admit I have been somewhat random in selecting the parables we will be looking at. In some cases I have deliberately chosen very famous and well known parables. In other cases I have chosen some of Jesus’ less known and even obscure parables. So that is where we are headed.

In this first message in the series I have chosen one of Jesus’ most famous and well known parables. It is the parable of the Good Samaritan. It is a parable that has entered the common culture in such a way that many people who have never opened a Bible know the story and recognize the reference. In fact many countries actually have a “Good Samaritan Law” which requires people to stop and give assistance if they come across an injured person.

Before we look at the parable itself, though, let me make a few introductory comments about parables in general. Jesus’ parables were stories taken from everyday life that he used to convey spiritual truth. In almost every case, Jesus used a parable to address a particular situation that had arisen in his ministry or to answer a question or respond to a challenge. To understand a parable and its primary purpose, then, it is important to recapture the context and understand the situation, the question, or the challenge that Jesus was responding to. This is our first challenge in interpretation, and in most cases the text itself will supply the information we need. The second challenge for the interpreter is to recapture the original cultural context and presuppositions of Jesus’ audience, and try to understand the story as they would have understood it or received it. For this aspect of interpretation I am indebted to other scholars, and particularly to a man by the name of Kenneth Bailey, who spent years researching the parables by trying to understand them from within the culture of the rural, Middle Eastern peasant.

With that little bit of background, then, let’s turn to Luke 10:25-37. As we read this passage in the Scripture reading this morning, we actually find that the text unfolds on several different levels. It is a fascinating case study of Jesus in action. Jesus’ method in these verses reminds me of a judo match. I have never been trained in or practiced any of the martial arts, but I have read descriptions of the philosophy behind judo wrestling. The strategy is not to meet strength with raw strength, but rather to take advantage of the opponent’s own strength and speed and momentum in such a way as to unbalance him, causing his own momentum to actually lead to his downfall. So as the opponent rushes at you, you don’t rush back at him, but you step aside and actually add your strength to propel him even faster and further in the same direction, resulting in his tripping or falling. Jesus was a master of this kind of give and take and verbal sparring, often using the other person’s own strengths or opinions to prove the point Jesus was trying to make, or to expose his opponent in his own false thinking.

In the text in front of us Jesus’ opponent is described as “an expert in the law.” The word is literally “a lawyer”, but the law he was an expert in was the law of God; the Pentateuch, especially the books of Exodus, Leviticus and Deuteronomy; the covenant law of Israel. We know he is an opponent rather than a true seeker, because we are told in verse 25 that he stood “to test Jesus,” which is a word that always has a negative connotation in the Scriptures. The verbal thrust and counter thrust between Jesus and the lawyer is found in the questions that are asked.

The lawyer’s first question: What must I do to inherit eternal life? Now this is a good question. We only know his motives are sinister because we are given that clue in the text. So we wait for Jesus’ response. As he so often did, Jesus met a question with another question: What is written in the Law? How do you read it? Notice what he is doing here. He is playing right into this man’s strength. This man is an expert in the law. Jesus, in essence, tells him, “You’re the expert. You tell me.” If Jesus had answered the man’s question directly, he might well have triggered a long debate. So Jesus asks the man for his own opinion.

Most people like to be asked for their opinions. This man is no exception. So the lawyer answers his own question: “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.” He is quoting from two different Scriptures here, the first taken from Deuteronomy 6:5 and the second taken from Leviticus 19:18.

Truly, this man is an expert in God’s Law. He has answered well. In fact Jesus himself uses these same two verses to summarize the Law of God in another context. So Jesus commends the man for his answer. You have answered correctly. Do this and you will live. Notice what has happened here. The man is caught in his own words. He has established by his own answer the high standards of God’s Law. Jesus has affirmed his answer and now makes the application. “You are right. This is the standard by which you will be evaluated. Keep this law and you will live.”

I believe at this point in the story, the lawyer is beginning to recognize his dilemma. This exchange is not going the way he intended! The standards of God’s Law are high. Has he really measured up? His conscience begins to prick him. How do we know all this? We know it because of the next verse. But he wanted to justify himself…He wanted to declare himself righteous according to God’s Law and thus worthy of eternal life. But to do so, he had to limit his liability. He had to chisel God’s standards down to a manageable size. So he attacks the second part of his own answer; the part about loving your neighbor as yourself. He does so by posing another question. So he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”

At this point in the account, I sense a subtle but significant shift. I believe that Jesus now has two audiences in mind and two goals he wants to fulfill. He is continuing to engage this man on the level of his original question: What must I do to inherit eternal life? He wants to continue to challenge the man’s effort to “justify himself”. But I believe Jesus is also aware of the crowd standing around and his own disciples who formed the inner circle around him. This question is an important one in its own right, and worthy of a thoughtful answer. So we will come back to the lawyer in a few minutes. But first let’s explore this larger question in the context of Jesus’ larger audience and his own disciples. The question the lawyer asked is a question that our world still asks today. “Who is my neighbor?”

We live in a world of walls; walls between people. These walls are based on the color of one’s skin, physical features, nationality, language, economic class, tribe, clan, family, religion. No society is without these walls.

What is more, all too often our standards of morality and behavior and even our manners change as we relate across these barriers. We first diminish the person on the other side of the wall by giving them a derogatory or demeaning label. Then our sense of responsibility begins to vary, depending on which side of the wall a person is on. Is he one of us or one of them? It often amazes me how people with very high standards of courtesy and etiquette toward people within their own walls can be seen behaving rudely and even ruthlessly toward those on the other side of the wall. In everyday life, such prejudice results in rudeness, disrespect and neglect. At its worst it erupts in acts of violence and even “ethnic cleansing.”

To such a world, this question is of crucial importance. Who is my neighbor? And the first century world was no different: Jew and Gentile, Jew and Samaritan, Roman citizen and non-Roman, Greek and Barbarian, free man and slave, male and female. Who is my neighbor?

To address the question, Jesus told a story. Jesus’ stories have a way of getting inside our defenses in a way that a direct answer wouldn’t. It is a simple story. A man was traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho. It is a distance of about 17 miles. The road twists and winds through a bleak and rocky wilderness, dropping about 3000 feet in the process. It was an ideal hideout for bandits and thieves.

What do we know about this man? We know absolutely nothing. He has no name. There is no description given. We don’t know his occupation. We don’t even know for sure that he is a Jew, but because Jesus is telling this story to a Jewish audience, we, along with Jesus’ audience, assume he was a Jew. But that is all we know and we don’t even know that for certain. He is anonymous and he is about to become even more anonymous.

As he descends the twisting road, he is attacked by a gang of thieves. It is a vicious attack. They beat him. They strip him of all his possessions, even his clothes. They leave him lying beside the road, naked and bleeding and, as the text says, so descriptively, “half dead.” I believe this is a way of saying he was unconscious.

This is the state in which the first passerby finds him. I mentioned before that the man in the story is anonymous. He is even more so now. In the ancient world, as in our world today, we have several quick ways by which we identify people and classify them. It is a quick way of determining if the other person is one of “us” or one of “them.” One way is by the way they dress. It can be by the quality of the clothes, but even more so here in the middle East, the type of clothes identify nationality or ethnic origin. Is someone a local, an Indian, a Pakistani, a Westerner. If the clothes don’t give away the other person’s origins, we listen to their speech. The language they use, the accent, the vocabulary and type of grammar, all give obvious and more subtle clues to another’s identity. It was the same in Jesus’ day. But think with me about the man beside the road. He’s been stripped naked. There is no visible clue to his identity. And he is unconscious, unable to speak. Who is he? Is he one of us? Or is he one of them? He is totally anonymous. Whose neighbor is he?

The first one to pass by is identified as a priest. He is coming down the road from Jerusalem to Jericho. Very possibly he has completed his sacred duties in the temple and is returning home at the end of his period of service. He was in a hurry. The road was dangerous. The wounded man could be bait in a trap set by the robbers. Plus there were all the laws about being contaminated by a dead body. If the man died while he was trying to help, he would be obligated to observe all the long cleansing rituals before he could resume his duties at the temple. The excuses were many. He had plenty of time to think them over. Remember, this is the first century world. We live in a mechanized world in which the decision to help or not to help must often be made in a split second as we whiz by in our cars. This man was walking, or possibly riding on a donkey. He no doubt saw the man as he approached. He had plenty of time to think and debate and ponder his duty. But at the heart of it all was the awful anonymity of the victim. He could be anybody! And so he passed by. He didn’t just pass by. As Jesus told the story, he passed by “on the other side.”

The next one to come along is a Levite. He is the same tribe as the priest, but not descended from Aaron, hence not qualified as a priest. But he was qualified to assist and work around the temple. He also comes to the place. He also sees the man lying beside the road. He also passes by “on the other side.”

At this point, Jesus had his audience. Who will help the suffering man? Their own cultural heroes have failed the test. Who will come along next? At this point Jesus shocks his audience. “But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was…”

Who were the Samaritans? Of all the cultural schisms in ancient Judea, the divide between Jew and Samaritan was one of the deepest. We are told the “Jews had no dealings with Samaritans.” They were hated and despised. They were racially mixed, neither fully Jew nor fully Gentile. Their religion was a corruption of true Judaism. The Jews harbored a deep and visceral prejudice against the Samaritans.

But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was and when he saw him, he took pity on him. Literally, his inner organs were stirred with compassion. Instead of passing by, he rushed to the man’s side. He tenderly bound his wounds after treating them with oil and wine to soothe and disinfect them. Then he helped the man onto his own donkey and took him to an inn. There he cared for him. The next day, he gave money to the innkeeper and instructed him to care for the man and offered to pay any additional expenses when he returned. He went above and beyond all reasonable expectations to meet the needs of this stranger beside the road.

The twist in the story enhances its poignancy and impact, and disarms his audience’s objections and defenses. I say it is a twist, because we might have expected the Samaritan to show up in this story as the victim. “There is a Samaritan; a hated despised Samaritan lying wounded by the road. Is it our duty, as Jews, to help a Samaritan?” But if Jesus had told the story that way, we can almost hear the grumbling and the debating and see the angry shaking of heads. “But they are Samaritans! They are our enemies! They are unclean!”

But Jesus shocked his audience. The Samaritan was not the victim needing help. He was the benefactor, coming to the man’s rescue. It was a brave thing Jesus did. To tell a story to a Jewish audience in which the Jews look bad and the hated Samaritan is the hero took a great deal of courage. But at the same time, it completely disarmed their objections. They might have argued that a Jew should not help a Samaritan. But how could they possibly argue that a Samaritan was wrong to help a Jew? We can almost see them opening their mouths to protest, and then shutting them again.

Jesus then asks the lawyer another question. Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers? You see, the lawyer asked the wrong question. “Who is my neighbor?” He was trying to justify himself. He was looking for limits to his obligation. He was seeking for excuses. The question, “Who is my neighbor?” is simply another way of asking, “Who is not my neighbor? Whom can I safely ignore and rightly neglect?” By answering that question, we reinforce the walls in our world. The question goes out from me and focuses on the other person. “Are you one of us or one of them? Are you my neighbor? Do I owe anything to you?”

But the way Jesus asked the question, he turns it around. “Who was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?” This question probes my own heart. To whom am I a neighbor?

The lawyer responded begrudgingly. He could not even bring himself to say, “The Samaritan.” But he had to admit the force of the story: “The one who had mercy on him.” And so Jesus responded, both for his benefit and for the benefit of his larger audience: Go and do likewise. Go and be a neighbor!

So how shall we apply this message? Let’s answer that question by considering Jesus’ two audiences. First of all, his larger audience, including his own disciples, were creatures of their culture. They carried the same prejudices and observed the same divisions between people that characterized their world. For them, and for us, “Who is my neighbor?” is the wrong question. A much more pressing, a much more revealing, a much more convicting question is, “To whom am I a neighbor?” and what does the answer to that question tell about the condition of my heart?

What about the more specific audience? I don’t want to leave this text without considering the outcome of Jesus’ interaction with this lawyer. Remember his opening question: What must I do to inherit eternal life? I want to consider the two statements Jesus made to him following their exchange of questions: Do this and live. That was Jesus’ response to his accurate summary of the Law of God. But then, following his attempt to justify himself and Jesus’ story, these words: Go and do likewise.

Tell me, do you think this man went away that day feeling justified? Do you think he went away feeling he had met God’s standard? Do you think he left feeling that he was righteous in God’s sight? I don’t think so. And that was Jesus’ intent. Jesus was using the Law of God, in which this man was such an expert, for its true intent. Turn with me to Romans 3:19-24:

Now we know that whatever the law says, it says to those who are under the law, so that every mouth may be silenced and the whole world held accountable to God. Therefore no one will be declared righteous in his sight by observing the law; rather, through the law we become conscious of sin. But now a righteousness from God, apart from law, has been made known, to which the Law and the Prophets testify. This righteousness from God comes through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe. There is no difference, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus.

I think the lawyer left that day feeling guilty and recognizing just how far short of God’s standards he fell. I can only hope that one day he came back to seek the righteousness from God apart from law…that comes by faith…and that through faith he was justified freely by God’s grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus.