‘Go, and do likewise…’

July 10, 2022

Scripture: Luke 10:25-37

This story is one of the most widely known, and oft-quoted ones in the gospels. In truth, it is one from which the lead character comes up, perhaps more than many other biblical figures in casual conversation, even to the extent of having ‘Good Samaritan Laws’ now a part of our legal lexicon. To say someone is, or someone acted like a good Samaritan, is to say that they stepped up and acted in a way that was unexpected or was outside of what we understand to be normal human behavior.

In my previous treatments of this passage, I have pushed back on that just a bit and tried to bring an understanding of just how far out of the normal range of expectations the original parable was set. The actual ‘Samaritans’ in Jesus’ day, the Jews from the region of Samaria to the north, were totally rejected, pushed so far outside of acceptable Jewish life, culture, and society that for one of them to be lifted up as the hero of a story was surely deeply upsetting and undoubtedly provoked disbelief that Jesus would ever even go there! Deep-rooted prejudices based on the worst of human impulses were behind the rejection, and much if not most of that understanding has been lost in modern treatments or social understanding of this parable.

In truth however, we have not moved that far away from creating or at least assuming that there are still ‘Samaritans’ out there among us. Looking down on someone who is different is still very much a part of our national behavior to be sure as divisiveness and polarity have pulled our society apart, letting age-old prejudices and fears gain new life and power.

At its heart however, the story Jesus told was meant to speak on multiple levels, none the least of which was the core of his message and ministry. Aside from the whole condemnation of prejudice, hatred, and judging people on external characteristics and misunderstandings, Jesus was issuing once again his call for us to truly learn to love one another. Asking his followers to always be willing to act in ways that were unexpected and to love when doing so was surprising and perhaps uncomfortable. To extend oneself towards a need, or in the pursuit of justice, when others may hesitate, or even refuse to do so.

Jesus told the one who came to him seeking to justify himself, simply to ‘love his neighbor’, and that request is still valid and active today, beckoning each one of us to do likewise. I suppose the real question for us therefore, is the same as the man’s, namely, ‘who is my neighbor’? Who are our neighbors? In fact, what does it truly mean to be a ‘neighbor’? Who exactly, are those in our time, that Jesus is asking us to ‘be there for’? Who is it that is deserving of our best efforts to care for, to lift up, and to love?

It seems that the actual meaning of ‘neighbor’ in common use today may have shifted a bit since I was a kid. Although, I am sure that it is still specific to an individual based on where you live, how close by your neighbors are, what kind of neighborhood you live in, and to some extent who you relate to, or who you choose as friends. Here in Patterson, where I was old enough to remember these sorts of interactions growing up, in large part our neighbors were pretty well known to us. Some were close friends, while others were quirky enough or had a reputation such that you generally avoided them. But in looking back, I believe that my parents tried to teach us to treat all of those around us with respect and politeness, not to judge without cause, to be willing to offer a helping hand, and to remember to open the door for others, in particular for women.

My father both was and wasn’t as much of an example in this regard, as he was the local pastor and was expected to act in certain ways…or at least that was our understanding. He was supposed to ‘go the extra mile’ and to ‘answer the call’ no matter the time of day or night, or the inconvenience of the request. And he did so pretty much without complaining. But in later years he seemed to run out of the energy required to keep on stepping up…I guess he just got tired. But my mom…she was different.

Upon moving to Patterson, my dad got very involved in local affairs, including the Patterson Volunteer Fire Department, the Ambulance Corp, the Rotary Club, and various Pastoral Counseling and support groups…as well of course as the many hours spent each week on the next Sunday’s sermon. As such, it fell to my mom to do the bulk of the child-rearing for the five of us siblings. Therefore I think it was her example of how to care for one’s neighbor, that had the deepest and most lasting impression on us. And though they are few, those still with us who knew my mom would gladly testify that she was the very picture of concern and care for those around her. The witness of her example of love lived out loud, be it through a visit to someone in need, or a check-in phone call, or simply a loaf of fresh baked bread hand delivered, she just gave and gave so willingly, and always with a smile and a cheerful greeting.

You didn’t have to agree with her, you didn’t have to be anything like her, you didn’t even have to know her, you just had to meet her to be blessed by her goodness. I never saw her withhold her love and concern from anyone, and that practice had, and continues to have a deep and lasting influence over me and my siblings. It was not really a ‘spoken’ lesson, but it was taught for years on end, and deep down, we knew it was important.

And I think the truth of that was made even clearer in her later years after a car accident left her totally paralyzed and unable to physically do all of the things she was so used to doing for others. It was not easy for her to learn to be content with having others now do for her. And I would love to say that we five kids all learned our lessons so well that we stepped right up and did for my mom what she had always done for us, and that we picked up the slack in terms of what she had always done for the community.

But that is untrue on several levels, for it took some time for us to adjust to our new sense of what it meant to be a family, and we took longer than we should have for sure, to begin to practice the lessons of love she had worked so hard to teach us. But it isn’t true that she wasn’t able to do for others as she had in the past on another level as well, and that is that regardless of her new ‘limitations’ (or at least that’s what we saw them as), she never missed a beat in sharing the abundance of love that was still in her heart, and in fact, was who she was. And I put the word ‘limitations’ in quotes because I honestly believe she learned not to see them as such.

I am sure it took a minute or two for her to assess her new reality, but not much more, for she was very practical, and didn’t waste much time or shed many tears on things she knew she couldn’t change. Instead she put on her broad smile and continued to light up whatever room she was in with her fine humor and kind words. She knew how to be a neighbor, and regardless of the situation, regardless of whoever was around her, she reached out and pulled you into the circle of friendship. You were welcome, you were important…you mattered…and we all saw her do that over and over.

And I tell you all of this, because I think my mom could have played at least two of the parts in our little story today. For sure, some saw her as the broken and helpless one laying off on the ‘other side of the road’. On occasion, we could see that people were at first uncomfortable around her, and moved so as to be outside of the ‘circle’. They no longer saw her as a full person, as one capable of being a blessing to them even though they may not have known they were actually looking for that. And that usually worked for them, unless my mom caught their eye and was able to snag them before they got fully away. These others, who tried to ‘cross over to the other side of the road’ sometimes succeeded in passing by her grace and her smile of invitation, but not always.

And my mom could also have played the part of the ‘Samaritan’ who first saw, and then went over to and gave deeply of their own resources to offer assistance, giving far beyond what was actually required or expected, and, just because it was the right thing to do. And I think that is what I really want to share with you today. That the example given to me by my mom truly went to the heart of what Jesus was trying to share that day. That the character of your heart and the willingness to extend oneself far beyond the bounds of expectation in the service of love is really the essence of what our Lord sought so hard to convey.

I know I probably told you this before, that during the period of my life just before and after the accident I was deeply involved in a faith understanding in which I believed that miracles were both very real as well as accessible. And that if one prayed hard enough and often enough for a particular desire, that eventually God would accede to your request and a miracle would occur. I still believe in miracles, but now I trust God to do whatever God wills, believing that whatever the outcome, God is still there, and God is always good.

But anyway, I believed in and prayed for my mom’s total physical healing from her quadriplegia over and over…so much so that I came to firmly believe and trust in the conviction that my mom would stand up and walk once again before she died, that she would be completely delivered from the paralysis that had so robbed her at the tender age of 47 years.

And I say this also because I am sure that some would feel, even if they were too polite to say it, that once my mom became paralyzed, her days of being a ‘Samaritan’, of being one who as a woman, was so willing to extend herself, even unto her own poverty, to help someone back on their feet…that those days were over. But nothing could have been farther from the truth…my mom was nowhere near done with her calling to be a good Samaritan in both word and deed!

And I never really knew just how true this was until after that day when my mom’s sister, my Aunt Betty called me at work to tell me that my mom had finally grown tired of fighting pneumonia for the fourth time and had gone on home to be with the Lord. I tell you, I was devastated in so many ways. This woman, this incredibly powerful influence on all of our lives was gone, and I didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye. Gone was the smile, the kindness, and the confidant who would always listen, the one who could read you without your even saying a word.

But on another level, I entered into a profound crisis of faith. I had put so much time and so much stock into the belief that she would be completely and miraculously healed, that what seemed like the sudden denial of that promise was almost too much to bear. It seemed as though I had only two choices left…to walk away from God and faith altogether, away from my life as a pastor’s son and as the son of my mother…or, begin to pray once again, this time for understanding, and for some sense of peace with the truth that my mom was truly and finally free from the steely cage of paralysis that had so defined her reality for 13 long years.

I chose the latter, and although the grieving and sense of loss has never really gone away, a real miracle did in fact occur. It probably started immediately, but in my sorrow and even hurt and disappointment, I probably did not notice it at first. But the years of my mom being a local practicing ‘Good Samaritan’, particularly after her transition to being able to love you only with her smile and eyes, began to bear abundant fruit. For so many came forward after her death to testify that she had made such an incredible difference in their lives, that her witness and her grace had so profoundly touched their hearts and led them into leading a better life. The strength and power of her witness and the testimony of her goodness and kindness towards others was just who she was and how she lived. And that was the miracle of her grace which had been freely offered to so many. That was the gift which inspired all five of us kids not only to remember, but to begin to practice in earnest all the lessons she had worked so hard to teach us. And though that is, and always will remain a work in progress, at least for me I suppose, I am forever grateful for this one who so fully embodied the ‘neighbor’ reflected in our reading.

And so in the end, I feel that this little story seems to be trying to tell us that life…abundant and eternal life is not about spending one’s time or one’s full conscious effort doing only what we want, or what we feel up to, but rather about being the one whose grace and love extended to others is forever surprising and unusual. About learning to truly be a ‘neighbor’ to those in need around us, and learning to live as a part of the whole community…always looking for opportunities to look after others or to lift up those who are not in as fortunate a place as our own.

So, let us never cross over to the other side of the road in order to avoid the Spirit’s call to compassion. Rather, let us be quick to cross over and to go towards each and every opportunity to minister in the name of our Lord and Savior. For in doing so, we are faithfully fulfilling the call that Jesus issued that day…‘Go, and do likewise’…

…amen