Copyright Ó 2004, Rev. Steven W. Stall
(Luke 10:25-37)
November 28, 2004
First the Disclaimer. I am an ordained United Methodist minister. Some of you have been Methodist, so you have an idea of what that might mean. For the rest, let me say this in the context of this morning’s message. The Methodist church is somewhat broad theologically. I know some on the right wing of the church, including clergy, who would be very happy and very comfortable as Nazarenes or Baptists. On the other hand, I know some on the left wing who would be very happy and very comfortable as Unitarians. I am among the latter. That is one reason why I decided to retire from parish ministry at an age earlier than normal. I remain with the Methodist Church largely because the forms of worship are familiar and comfortable. I sympathize greatly with the Unitarian Church, and my Unitarians friends sympathize with me for being a Methodist.
This morning I am sure that I will use speech that is more traditionally Christian than some Unitarians would appreciate. I do not mean to be in anyone’s face, rather please, keep in mind what I have just said, and make whatever translations are necessary.
And so we begin.
A good parable is like a good joke: either you get it or you don't. A Unitarian Minister got a call from a woman he did not know. She told him that her dog had died. He commiserated with her; he’s a dog lover, and he knows how it is. Then she got to the point of the call. Would he do a memorial service for the dog? Now, he really didn’t want to get into such things, so he gently suggested that she call the Methodist minister down the street. She said she would, but she had one question about the honorarium. Is $500 enough? The pastor replied, “Hold on here. I didn’t realize that your dog was a UU.”
A good parable is like a good joke: either you get it or you don't. To get it, is to have some insight into the Kingdom of God. That's why Jesus told his stories: that his listeners might have insight into God's Kingdom. Many of the parables begin, “The Kingdom of God is like…” Unfortunately, 90% of the people are quite certain that they've got it, and I'm quite certain that 90% of the time they're wrong. It's not because we're stupid, it's just because sometimes we're not very perceptive. We don't pay close enough attention to really understand. Take, for example, this morning's reading from Luke’s Gospel. It is very familiar.
A man was going down from the mount upon which Jerusalem sits. He took the Jericho Road. It is a rugged and isolated road, perfect for highwaymen to lay in wait and attack travelers as they passed. And so it happened. The man was mugged and left for dead.
A priest was also traveling from Jerusalem on the same road. When he came to the spot where the man lay, he passed him by ignoring the man's plight. As the priest, likewise a Levite.
Finally, there came a Samaritan. The Samaritan was moved by compassion. He ministered to the man, binding his wounds to begin the healing process. He placed the man on his own beast of burden and took him to the Holiday Inn, well, an inn in any event. He paid for the man's continuous care and promised to cover the final bill.
Jesus asks, rhetorically, "Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?"
90% of us don't need this parable explained. 90%? Maybe 95%; maybe 99% don't need it explained. Behave as the Samaritan behaved, right?
"The Good Samaritan" is a perfectly charming story the point of which seems obvious. But it is not! Or, more accurately, the point in its literary context is perfectly obvious, but there is more here than meets the eye, which is often the case. There is a deeper level of meaning we often miss precisely because the initial meaning is so obvious. We find a nugget of gold on the surface and run to cash it in. We fail to realize that below the surface is a whole vein of gold. It will take some work and some patience to get it out, but it will be well worth the effort.
The whole thing hinges on Jesus' choice of a Samaritan as the leading character and to a lesser extent on the negative portrayal of the priest and Levite. Priests, Levites, and Samaritans have little or no emotional overtones for the modern reader. What overtone is present is due in part to this parable. We have a soft spot in our hearts for the Samaritan, and we are suspicious of priests and Levites. Such was not the case in Jesus' day.
In order to understand that this is not a nice, sweet, benign, example story for us to emulate but rather an explosive parable that challenged the very foundations of the world, we must first understand who Samaritans are and whence they come.
The hatred that existed between Samaritans and Jews can be traced back at least a millennium prior to Jesus’ birth. The intensity of the hatred had been steadily growing for five centuries. For nearly 200 years the Roman occupation had kept the hatred from turning violent.
After the death of David's son, King Solomon, in the tenth century BC, the United Kingdom of Israel had divided into two kingdoms, one in the north and one in the south. The capital city of the southern kingdom was Jerusalem. The capital in the north was Samaria. The people of both kingdoms were descendants of Father Abraham, you’ve heard of Father Abraham, I suppose; the point is they were cousins. They both worshiped Yahweh as God and Lord. They practiced their religion in almost identical ways. Across the years they held most of their scriptures in common. At the same time they accused one another of heresy and of an inauthentic expression of faith. They each claimed the exclusive right as the people of God.
Time complicated matters. First the northern kingdom fell to the Assyrians in 721 BC, and then the southern to the Babylonians in 586 BC. Forced exile of the ruling classes and leading citizens was imposed on both nations. By the end of the sixth century BC many of those exiled from the southern kingdom had returned home to a land now known as Judea. There is no knowledge of anyone returning to the territory of the northern kingdom, by this time know as Samaria, taken from the name of the former capital city. Henceforth, the citizens were known as Samaritans and Jews.
Their rivalry and animosity grew. For the most part it was a political and social rivalry. However, each developed their common religion in unique ways, and religion became the focal point of their hatred. 500 years is a lot of time to grow and nurture a hatred. Jews would never travel on Samaritan soil; they would go miles out of their way, on foot, to avoid it. Some thought that even if the shadow of a Samaritan fell across the intended path of a Jew, then the Jew would be defiled, unclean and would go to the Temple for the appropriate purification ritual. Samaritans would sometimes follow Jews, placing little pieces of straw in the Jew's footprints and set the straw afire for a curse.
For the Jew, Samaritans represented everything that was evil in the world. My bigoted title is an obvious paraphrase from the bigoted American Old West, or at least the TV and movie portrayal of the bigoted Old West. It expresses the Jewish sentiments of the time quite well: not “The only good Indian is a dead Indian,” but rather "The only good Samaritan is a dead Samaritan."
At the same time priests and Levites represented the best of Jewish religion and society. As hard as it might be for some to believe it, priests and Levites were honored and even revered. The negative portrayal we read is not historically accurate, but is instead a reflection of early Christian prejudice. Just as the Samaritan represented everything bad in the world, the priests and Levites represented everything good. A Jew could not even imagine that a priest or a Levite could even be capable of thinking of an inhumane act, let alone actually committing one.
And then along comes this Jesus fellow. He tells his listeners, all Jews by the way, stories. Stories about God and God’s Kingdom, God’s presence in the world. One is about a man who fell among robbers and was ignored by a priest and Levite but was ministered to by a Samaritan, of all people. Who does Jesus think he is and why does he choose to identify the characters of the story in this explosive manner? What is to be gained? The mere mention of a Samaritan to Jews would stir up terrible emotions. Surely if the intent is to provide a role model, an example to be followed, then the introduction of a Samaritan as the lead character is counter-productive. The emotions of the listeners get in the way of understanding the point. And this is on top of the negative portrayal of the priest and Levite.
If this were merely an example story, it is an example story, but if it were merely an example story, then it would have served Jesus' proposes just as well to use three anonymous persons with the third ministering to the man and being the role model. Such emotionally charged identities as priest, Levite, and Samaritan are not necessary for the example to be valid. Do you see…1st person, 2nd person, 3rd person…act like the third person?
If, in addition to providing an example of behavior, Jesus had wanted to take a jibe at the Jewish religious establishment as well, then he could have used a priest, a Levite, and a Jewish layperson. That would accomplish the task without introducing the hated Samaritan.
If it were merely an example story, he could have even made the man who fell among robbers a Samaritan. A Jew, after all, was capable of compassion toward the enemy even if it was distasteful. Why make the Samaritan the compassionate one?
The only good Samaritan is a dead Samaritan. Why tell the parable of the Good Samaritan? And that is precisely the point. For Jesus and the Jews of his time, good Samaritan is an oxymoron like "awfully good" or "pretty ugly" or "military intelligence" or "thunderous silence." Good Samaritan is a logical impossibility like a "pure black white horse" or "a square circle" or "a four sided triangle." Good Samaritan is a contradiction in terms. It cannot be; they do not exist. There is no such thing.
Perhaps it is possible to provide the modern reader, us, with an approximation the emotional tone this parable held for the original hearers. A man drove out on a county road. He stopped to pick up a hitchhiker, but it was a trap. The thieves robbed him and beat him and left him in the ditch. Only moments later a Unitarian pastor arrived on the scene. When she saw the man in the ditch, she drove her car wide of the spot and continued on her way. When a Unitarian layman came by, he also did as the pastor had done and continued on his way. But when an atheistic, card-carrying member of the Russian Communist Party arrived, he had compassion on the man. He stopped and administered first aid. He then put the man in the back seat of his car, not worrying in the least about bloodstains. He drove the man to the emergency room at INOVA Hospital. As the man was being treated he went to the business office and wrote a check for $5,000.00, saying, "Take care of him. If this is not enough, when I come back I will pay the rest of the bill." Which person, do you think, proved to be neighbor to the man who fell among the thieves?
Do you sense some of the emotional turmoil that the Jews must have felt when Jesus told this parable? Just a little maybe? Actually, the "Parable of the Good Communist" doesn't carry the punch it would have just a few years ago. What if we make the third man a card-carrying member of the German Nazi Party? For a number of you that's a good parallel. World War II is part of your lived experience. Still it was 60 years ago. How about “The Parable of the Good Neo-Nazi?” We’ll make him a skinhead in jackboots. How about if we make it the "Parable of the Good Iraqi?" It could be one of Saddam Hussein's sidekicks. That one's probably closer to home. Is there a little twinge in you gut as you think about it?
Clarence Jordan was a New Testament scholar, a Southern Baptist from Georgia. His audience was all white, middle class, and very traditionally southern. In the 50s he wrote a paraphrase of this parable that he entitled “The Parable of the Good Nigger.” But I can’t use that one, can I? It wouldn’t be politically correct.
Wait a minute. How about "The Parable of the Good Gay Man with AIDS." No impact? I may be wrong person in the wrong church for that one, but it does work in some places in our world, doesn’t it? Work with me here, I’m trying as hard as I can. How about “The Parable of the Good Axe Murderer” or “The Parable of the Good Serial Killer?” One more time: “The Parable of the Good Leader of Al-Queda.” It could be Osama Bin Laden’s cousin, a fundamentalist who has sworn a religious vow to rain death and destruction down on the United States of America. I'll bet that thought turns someone's stomach. And if it does, you've just been challenged by Jesus.
The only good Samaritan is a dead Samaritan.
Jesus could not simply declare the existence of a good Samaritan. His claim would have been denied. Instead he told a Kingdom parable in which a Samaritan was undeniably good. Although most of his listeners would have summarily dismissed the story as pure fiction, they would also have to admit that in the context of the story the Samaritan was indeed good. For those who understand the nature of Samaritans and still take the parable seriously, there will be soul-searching and a great deal of spiritual struggle to endure. We stand face-to-face with something that cannot be: a good Samaritan.
Oh, that's what the Kingdom of God is like; the rule of God is like; the realm of God is like; the presence of God is like...like standing face-to-face with something that cannot be believed, like a good Samaritan, like the grace of God. The Kingdom of God creates a polar reversal. The world is turned upside down. And this is the point: the hearers were confronted with the necessity of saying the impossible and having everything in their world radically questioned. If there are good Samaritans, if there are good neo-Nazis, if there are good Al-Queda members, what else about our assumptions of the way the world works must be questioned?
When God breaks into your consciousness and into mine, God demands such a response. We’re not talking about a slight attitude adjustment here -- rather all bets are off. All prior values are reevaluated. All closed options are reopened. All set judgments are shaken. All established conclusions are questioned. Everything is up for grabs. It cannot be business as usual. If it is business as usual, then it’s not the Kingdom of God.
Jesus was born into a world in which everything was figured out. The Jews knew who were God's people and who were not. The Jews knew about Samaritans. The Jews knew how God operated and what God expected. The Jews knew what kind of Messiah was to come. They had already made up their minds. They were so closed that they could not hear anything else. Jesus attacked the shell that protected the Jews with something that could not be: a good Samaritan.
Come to think of it, the Spirit of God still comes into a world that has it all figured out. It still comes into a world that knows how God operates and what God expects. It still comes into a world that has God all figured out. It still comes into a world that is so closed that it cannot hear the Good News of God’s presence. No, not it or they; we are so closed that we cannot hear the Good News. We also are challenged with the logical impossibility of the grace of God; the unmerited favor of God; citizenship in God’s Kingdom simply by God’s declaration. It is no more possible than a good Samaritan.
The Good News is that this polar reversal, this downside up turning of the world by the God’s Kingdom is really a right side up turning. It is really God's act of liberating us from our prejudices and bigotry, from our fears and anxiety, from all that robs us of life, from all that binds us, from all that robs us of our potential. It is God's act of granting us life.
It can’t be that easy, can it? Yes it can. You are graced by God and there’s nothing you can do to reject that grace. God has so declared. God simply calls upon us to hear the parable once more, to embrace its radical impossibility, to be ready to realign all our priorities and reevaluate all our values, in other words to respond to God's grace with a life of faith, but that’s the subject of another sermon.
AMEN.