11 July 2010

Deuteronomy 30:9-14
Psalm 25:1-10
Colossians 1:1-14
Luke 10:25-37

Let’s get something clear from the very start. This parable of the so-called “Good Samaritan” that we just heard – it’s not about Jesus establishing some new rule of niceness for his disciples to follow. The notion of stopping to help a person in need is not the Gospel. It’s law – pure and simple. And it’s a law written on the hearts of all people of good will in every land and culture. Nor does following this precept make anyone a Christian. It’s merely part and parcel of being a good citizen of the world – and, I repeat, it is most assuredly NOT the Gospel. And to be neighbor to someone in need does in no way make us just, righteous, or a better – or even good – person in the eyes of God. So – what is this little Gospel parable all about then?

Let’s go back to the beginning of today’s Lucan narrative; a lawyer stands up to Jesus in order to put Jesus to the test. Will Jesus uphold what we heard in the narrative from Deuteronomy this morning – that those who follow the Law as set down by Moses will prosper and have life abundant, life eternal? Jesus, being a good rabbi, answers the lawyer’s question about life and the law with a question of his own. “What’s the Law say about inheriting the life of the ages? What do you read in scripture?” The lawyer answers – that we are to love the Lord God with all our heart, soul, and strength and the neighbor as ourselves. “Hooray,” says Jesus. “Do this and you will live.” The lawyer isn’t finished though. He wants to prove that he himself is just – that he is righteous and acceptable to God. Of course, a little quibbling, a little negotiation needs to be done just to make sure. So the lawyer asks Jesus to define the limits of one’s duty, so the lawyer can prove that the law really can be kept, that the law truly is fulfillable. “So – who is my neighbor?” he asks.

You know how the story goes – both the priest and the Levite – religious leaders – keep their distance from the person at the side of the road who is near death. Actually, they truly are keeping the law of Moses. If they want to enter the Temple, having contact with this sorely wounded person will render them unclean, and unfit to perform their duties. They indeed are fulfilling the letter of the law. Then, along comes the Samaritan – who is already unclean according to the law – who has nothing much to lose. And as you know, the Samaritan turns out to be the good guy, having pity upon the stranger, binding up the stranger’s wounds, and providing for the stranger’s care. And you know too how Jesus then asks the lawyer which of the three was neighbor to the person who got mugged and left for dead – and how the lawyer – grudgingly I’m sure – admits that it was the Samaritan. And then the clincher, the punch line if you will: Jesus tells the lawyer to go and do likewise. Now, at this, the audience of Luke’s narrative bursts into knee-slapping laughter. “Yeah, ha-ha, like that’s ever going to happen.” Which is, of course, the whole point of this parable.

What we’re supposed to get out of this whole exchange is that if being just, right, acceptable – an inheritor of the life of the ages – is dependant upon what the lawyer does or is going to do – well then, the lawyer is toast. He is, you see, absolutely, constitutively unable to sully himself by getting close to anyone unclean, let alone by aiding anyone half-dead. His whole reason for being is to follow the law to the letter, and Jesus is asking him to do what he will never be able to do. The lawyer is just like the rich person whom Jesus tells to give all his wealth away to the poor and come follow. It’s impossible. It’s as if Jesus said to us: “You want your righteousness to depend on how well you love the neighbor? Well, start by getting rid of your car. Untold numbers of neighbors have been, are, and will be victimized by your oil dependency --not to mention how the emissions of all your vehicles are trashing the creation. And you want to love the neighbor? Well all you liberals can start by selling all your possessions and giving everything to the poor you say you love so much. How about everybody, every bank, every corporation, every business great and small forgiving all monetary debt? Might seem good on the surface for you debtors, but, that would do wonders for your pensions wouldn’t it?” Jesus continues, “Oh, and those of you who are really into the peace and justice thing: justice before God means that everyone who in their mind labels the neighbor an idiot is the same as a murderer.” Ouch. If being righteous before God depends upon our perfectly loving the neighbor as ourselves – well then, we’re all done for.

Civil law is of course different; civil law, the governments that enact civil law, and the authorities who enforce civil law all exist to keep chaos at a minimum and to keep us from killing each other because we can’t be relied on to do the right thing when left to our own devices. Here, we can hope to achieve a modicum of civil justice by our works, but that has nothing to do with our rightness before God. Not even the civil law, however, will give life and prosperity: no matter how just a person is in the civil realm, many of the just will not prosper and many of the unjust will. And it is irrefutable that the just and unjust alike will all suffer and die.

So – point one of this little exchange between Jesus and the lawyer: if we’re looking to the law in any of its functions and forms to give us life, health, and prosperity – if we’re looking to the law to make ourselves acceptable in the eyes of God – well, then we’re toast, toast, toast. Good as dead – right here, right now.

But, of course, as you all should have guessed by now – there is more to the story – there is a point number two to this little exchange. So back to the parable.

The priest and the Levite of the parable represent the Temple order of things – the salvation they promise through works of the law and sacrifices (which are just another form of works), that stuff is of no help whatsoever to any of us. As Paul is continually trying to get into our head, the Law always leaves all of us wounded and left half-dead at the side of the road. But there’s the Samaritan. The Samaritan in the story is Jesus, and himself, with the Samaritan, rejected under the Law. And only Jesus can rescue us, can give us the life of the ages; only Jesus can make us right and just and acceptable before God. With water, oil, and bread and wine the Samaritan cared for the wounded one, half-dead by the side of the road. Just so, in Holy Baptism, with water and with the oil of anointing – you have been, are, and will be made well and whole in the sight of God -- by Christ-the-Samaritan’s coming to you made perfect in God’s eyes in every way. And in the Holy Communion, you are fed with bread and wine, Christ giving to you his very own body and blood for sustenance, that you be continually nourished and made whole to live in the life of the ages. And because we are all, through the law, as good as dead by the side of the road, there’s nothing whatsoever we can get up and do to earn the mercy of Jesus the Good Samaritan. Nothing whatsoever.

Oh, I suppose if you’d like to try to earn your way to God, go ahead, knock yourself out. And do come back and let us know how all that’s working out for you. But as for the rest of us, thanks be to Jesus who has come back to us this very day to do to you and to me the healing works of God’s everlasting mercy. And that’s what this whole parable is all about – Jesus-the-Samaritan’s work for you. Period.