Today marks my 35th spiritual birthday, so I was especially eager
to attend church. It was one of those services when the Anglican lectionary was
prophetic. A preacher could scour the entire Bible for the most appropriate
passage for current events and would do no better than one scheduled decades
and decades ago for today in the round-robin lectionary cycle.
After the past week of police killings and the killing of police,
the Gospel reading for today was the Good Samaritan parable (Luke 10:25-37). As my pastor John
Taylor pointed out today, for 500 years the Jews and the Samaritans had been
feuding, even at times inflicting fatal blows on each other. Deeply
entrenched distrust and spite plagued both sides.
This long-smoldering enmity is the backdrop for a despised
Samaritan to become the hero in the story Jesus told his Jewish audience. Being
a Jew himself, Jesus could present such a story deftly, knowing just where
Jewish ribs separate to neatly slip in the knife of conviction.
Understanding that the story wasn't meant only for first-century
Jews, Fr. John gave several real-life contemporary examples of equally selfless
kindnesses in the face of the hatred that might 'humanly' be expected.
Then he spoke about the little kindnesses and “benefit of the doubt”
interpretations we need to extend to each other in our attitudes and actions if
we ever hope to have a Good Samaritan-like response in a crisis.
The parable of the Good Samaritan is perhaps Jesus' most famous
story. Reaching beyond enmity and distrust with compassion is a challenge that
has constantly stayed with us for 2000 years.
And almost everyone seems to know the story, regardless of their
faith journey. To be a labeled a Good Samaritan is a wide-used compliment
in many secular as well as spiritual contexts.
It's JESUS 101. Anyone who knows anything at all about what
Jesus stands for and what Jesus taught his followers knows the Good Samaritan
story.
That's why such discouragement washed over me a few minutes
later. Midway through the sermon, my mind shot back in time just 48 hours
to a meeting I had on Friday with three energetic World Vision volunteers.
They were commenting about several emails they've recently received and
conversations they've had - as recently as that morning - where the common
message was: "Hey, what's going on with World Vision? I thought they were
a Christian organization. What in the world are they doing ministering to
Muslim refugees?!"
And the thing is, literally every person issuing this "complaint"
would call themselves a Christian. Meaning, a follower of Jesus. In that context, this doesn’t seem to be a
question that even deserves the dignity of an answer.
Is it possible to ignore Jesus' most basis, most well-known and
well-loved teaching, and still claim to be his follower? Is it possible to be shocked when an organization that claims to
be animated by the teachings of Jesus actually does things Jesus tells his
followers to do?
Jesus never created a so-called "Christian subculture.”
But there was a culture Jesus talked about until he was blue in the face.
It was the topic he discussed until he was practically a broken record.
He called it "the kingdom of God" or "the kingdom of
Heaven." We too-mindlessly pray for it to come every time we say the
Lord's Prayer: "Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth, as it is in
heaven."
Our assignment is to show forth the signs of that culture, of
the kingdom coming on earth, just like the Good Samaritan did. "Let me
give you a picture of the Kingdom of God," Jesus says over and over, and
then he proceeds to tell a story, a parable, an illustration of what it will
look like when we live that Way. (As in, “This is the way; walk in it.”)
I agree with Fr. John: if we're going to get through this season
of mistrust and enmity and election accusations, we're going to have to embrace
and exercise Jesus' teaching in the small things… our interactions, our
attitudes, our distrusts.
When Jesus called us to be salt and light, I don't think he
meant we should pour that salt into the world's wounds or use our light to scorch
others or add to the world's heat. For those of us still smitten by the
Good Samaritan, Jesus has one singular instruction: "Go and do likewise."
Cory
July 2016
