Wednesday, July 17, 2019

Sermon: Being a neighbor (in the border crisis) (July 14, 2019)


Pentecost 5C
Proper 9
July 14, 2019
Luke 10:25-37

INTRODUCTION
Last week we heard a lot about the kingdom of God – what it is like, what it is not like, and how to proclaim it. This week, right on the tails of Jesus sending out 70 of his followers to proclaim the kingdom, and their return, we hear a very familiar story, the Good Samaritan, which gives us a concrete example of what it would look like if we did, indeed, love our neighbor. The familiarity of this tale has perhaps diminished how very scandalous it is – we’ll get into that in a moment! Today, as you listen to the first readings, hear that God’s law and hope for us has not changed since the Israelites entered the Promised Land, give thanks in the Psalm that God is present with us as we strive to live God’s word, and hear in our reading from Colossians a prayer for you as you strive to live a life of faith. Then, as you listen to the story of the Good Samaritan, place yourself in the story – not as the hero, the Samaritan, but as one of the other characters. Maybe the guy in the ditch, or one of those who crosses the road, or the innkeeper. For that matter, maybe you’re the lawyer at the beginning. As you listen, imagine your character’s thoughts and feelings as this all plays out. Let’s listen.
[READ]
The Good Samaritan by Dinah Roe Kendall

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
As I have been following the debate about immigration in this country, I have really tried to hear both sides of the argument. But whatever America ends up doing with our broken immigration system, right now, I can’t shake the stomachache I get when I picture all those people crowded into cells without adequate hygiene or comfort. Like I think most people, what really breaks my heart is so many innocent children who are suffering so much, and will in some cases endure lasting damage from the trauma of the experience. Being in our country leaves them in these conditions. Going back home means a life of violence and poverty and constant fear of death. Politics aside, I’m left wondering: what is the Christian response here? How do we as Christians respond in a way that ensures safety and thriving and life not only for those children and adults, and for the migrants who are already here, making a life and contributing to our country, but also for the citizens of this country? We want all these groups to thrive! What is a Christian response?
It’s hard for me to read today’s parable without thinking about this situation – the detention centers and what happens once they cross the border and claim asylum or whatever, but also the circumstances in their home countries that cause so many to flee north. “Who is my neighbor?” the lawyer asks Jesus. And my heart cries, “Certainly these children and other migrants! What can we do to help them?”
But as I kept thinking about all this, I noticed a detail in the Good Samaritan story that I hadn’t thought much about before. The lawyer asks Jesus one question – “who is my neighbor?” – but Jesus answers a different one. Where the lawyer asks, “Who qualifies as a neighbor? Whom do I really have to love?” (and perhaps the underlying question, “Whom can I avoid loving?”), Jesus turns the question around and asks, “Who acts like a neighbor?” You see, rather than focusing on whom to love, he teaches us how to love, what love of neighbor looks like.
Now, Jesus is pretty good at that: flipping people’s questions around and answering (or sometimes not answering) a completely different question. But his trick here is especially instructive for us. His first response to the lawyer is to say, “A certain man was walking.” Or said more colloquially, “Some guy…” We know nothing about this dude. I might have expected this lawyer, whom Luke tells us is “wanting to justify himself,” to stop Jesus right there for some clarification. “Hold on,” he’d say. “What kind of guy are we talking about here? Where is he from? What religion is he? What color is he? Is he gay or straight, Democrat or Republican? Is he a citizen of this country or is he here illegally? Is he educated or skilled? What’s his deal?” In other words, “Let me make a judgment before I hear anything else in this story about whether this guy is worth my time and energy.” But no, Jesus intentionally leaves out any of those details, because the only detail that matters, as we’ll soon see… is that this man is in need. “Some guy” is each of us, and he is the person we love the most, and he is the person we love the least, or the one we fear the most. This “certain man” is every man, every person, regardless of tribe, background, education, or skill level. In other words: it doesn’t matter who he is, because everyone who is in need is your neighbor.
         Once that is established, Jesus goes on to tell this now-famous story: some non-descript guy is walking along and gets mugged, beaten, robbed, and left for dead on the side of the road. He’s walking along a notoriously dangerous road, where such incidents were common. Sometimes, such beaten people were left there as bait, so that when someone stopped to help, bandits would jump out and get the helper, too. Frankly, the priest and Levite who soon passed by were making a smart decision, for a lot of reasons. One was that helping the man would put them in great personal danger. Everyone has the right to safety and self-defense, right? And their defense is to cross to the other side of the road. But another important reason they were smart not to help was that touching this man would be breaking the law. These were religious men, who could not perform their religious duties if they had touched a dead body (remember, he looked dead). Such an interaction required extensive cleansing rituals over several days. And so each of them opted to follow the letter of the law, not stop to help the man, and go on to serve and honor God in their respective positions. Good call, if you ask me, and probably one that served a greater good. I don’t blame them at all. In fact, it’s a call I have many times made myself.
         And then along comes the Samaritan. Now, to add a little color to this story, you should know that Jews and Samaritans, well, they hated each other guts. They disagreed on everything that matters – where and how to worship God, how to interpret Scripture, how to honor God. The hatred was long-standing and deeply entrenched. We don’t know the affiliation of the man in the ditch, but we know those listening to the story were likely Jews, who heard, “A Samaritan came along…” and were likely clenching their fists. Nobody there would like to hear that the Samaritan was the hero – even the lawyer, when asked who was a neighbor, can’t even say the word, Samaritan. Instead he answers (I imagine, reluctantly, through clenched teeth), “The one who showed him mercy.” For Jesus then to add, “Go and do likewise,” was throwing salt in the wound: go and be more like this person you despise.
         The original question, you remember, was, “Who is my neighbor?” and Jesus’ implicit answer to that is, “Everyone.” The story he goes on to tell shows us not who is our neighbor, but rather, how to be a neighbor to “everyone” – regardless of race, creed, political affiliation, country of origin, marketable skills, immigration status, sexual orientation or gender. Everyone.
So… how do we do it? Are the priest and Levite not good neighbors? They follow the letter of the law and don’t stop to help so that they wouldn’t put themselves in danger, or get themselves ritually unclean, such that they wouldn’t be able to perform their religious duties. The law is in place for a reason, after all. If we don’t follow it, there will be chaos. Following the law seems like pretty good neighbor conduct, no? And you know, I’d be willing to bet, they even prayed for that guy in the ditch. They were faithful men, after all. So, couldn’t that be what being a neighbor looks like?
Ah, but this story isn’t called “the law-abiding priest and Levite.” We call it the Good Samaritan, because it was the Samaritan who saw that while the law is a good thing that keeps order, it is not more important than mercy. Grace is a higher good than law. Love is a higher good than safety. If the law directs us toward being gracious, merciful and loving toward our neighbor in need, then by all means keep it. But as the lawyer rightly pointed out, the highest law of all is, “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.” Every other law must lead us toward fulfilling this mandate. Do this, says Jesus, and you will live.
The situation on the border is complicated, I know. I wish there were a straightforward solution to this incredibly complex issue our country has been dealing with for many years. Politically speaking, I’m not sure what to do. But I do know that a Christian response, as per God’s instruction throughout scripture, is to be a neighbor, to show love and mercy, to each of these people crossing our border or being held in detention, whether it’s a child, or a single adult, or a criminal, or a mom with a clean record who just wants to hold her baby again and give him a better life. Love and mercy in these cases may look like prayer, or a donation to an organization working on behalf of those in need on the border, or like calling your representative, or like attending a vigil or protest, or like using your particular skills and forum to serve, help, listen, advocate for, or simply speak out for love.
I also know that in this story, Jesus defines being a neighbor as showing mercy, radical and even dangerous mercy – not unlike the mercy he himself would come to show on the cross, as he forgave those who crucified him even as they taunted him, then died and rose again to deliver eternal life to us bunch of sinners.
And what I know most of all is that when we are neighbors, when we show mercy, we will live. We will experience God’s life-giving kingdom here and now. When we are bold in our compassion, courageous in our love, and faithful in our witness, we will live. That is the promise of Jesus Christ: that because we have already received such mercy and grace, we are emboldened to share that love with a hurting world, trusting in the power of God and life everlasting. A neighbor shows mercy to this broken world. Go, and do likewise.
Let us pray… Most merciful God, there are so many who suffer in this world, who need to encounter your mercy. Help us to be agents of your love. Show us how to do it, as individuals and as a country. Reveal to us your plan, then embolden us to become a part of it. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

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