Page last updated

 

 

                                                            
_________________________________________________________________________________

 


______________________________________________________________


Who is My Neighbor?

based on Luke 10:25-37
by Dr. David Rogne

A young, rather innocent girl from a small country town went to seek work in a large city. She was given one of those massive forms to fill out: Name, address, family history, etc. When she came to the question, "In case of emergency, whom should we notify?" she called the personnel manager over and said, "I don't understand." The manager said, "Well, you know, if some accident befell you on the job, or some emergency arose, whom should we call?" She responded, "Why, the nearest human being, of course." If only that were so! When she has spent a little time in the city, she will discover that many human beings are not that neighborly.

Our scripture reading for this morning picks up on the idea of neighborliness and helps us see some of its characteristics. You will remember that a lawyer, seeking to test Jesus, asks him, "Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?" Jesus asks him what he already knows from the Jewish law, and he responds that people are to love God, and their neighbor as themselves. When Jesus responds that that will satisfy the requirements, the lawyer persists and asks, "Who is my neighbor?" It is then that Jesus tells the story of a man making a journey from Jerusalem to Jericho along the road that was called in those days the "bloody road," because it was filled with caves and sharp turns where robbers could hide and fall upon lonely travelers. Usually people would travel in groups for greater protection, but this man who was alone, became the victim of muggers, and was left to die. A priest and a religious professional who passed by offered no help, but a despised Samaritan, a half-breed, coming on the scene, had compassion and took care of the man.

Then Jesus concluded the story by asking who was neighbor to the hurt man in the story, and the lawyer had to confess that it was the one who showed mercy. Jesus said simply, "Go and do likewise." Does that mean that everyone who wants to do "likewise" has to go out and find a mugging victim to help? I don't think so. "Likewise" means that we have to be as sensitive to our opportunities as the Samaritan was to his. There are, however, some characteristics in this good Samaritan that will help us to identify how good neighbors act.

For one thing, the Samaritan took action. Sometimes, when we are faced with a problem, we prefer to study it to death. Xerox is a case in point. It devoted millions of dollars and years of effort to the development of a personal computer. It hired many of the most brilliant minds, people who would eventually make microcomputer technology possible. But Xerox couldn't make the decision. The former director of research says that they had a sure-fire micro product ready long before the founders of Apple Computer came on the scene, but, he says, they got bogged down planning the Invasion of Normandy, and didn't get into the market. Similarly, when we embark on some program of good work, somebody can always think of one more report that we should have before we begin, and as a result, nothing is done.

Sometimes the problem is that we don't agree with one another about how to proceed, so nothing gets done. Max Lucado, in his book, And the Angels Were Silent, tells of Peter Loetz who took a bad fall that left him with a punctured lung and broken ribs and internal bruising. Lying in an emergency room, barely conscious, he probably thought things couldn't get any worse. They did. As he looked up, the two doctors responsible for his care began arguing over who would get to put a tube into his crushed chest. The argument became a shoving match, and one doctor threatened to have the other removed by the security police. "Please, somebody save my life," Loetz pleaded as the doctors fought over him. The two doctors were arguing over procedure. While they were debating, two other physicians assumed responsibility for the patient and saved his life.

Fortunately, the Samaritan didn't have anyone to argue with. Indeed, those who were listening to Jesus' story would have assumed that the Samaritan would not have had any insights worth listening to anyway--he would not know the laws of God--he would be held in contempt. Yet he knew what was called for--action. Henry Ward Beecher pointed out a long time ago that "Religion means work. Religion means work in a dirty world. The world has got to be cleaned by somebody; and you are not called by God if you are ashamed to scour and scrub." If we really want to be helpful, we have to get beyond talking about the problem and do something.

Another thing the Samaritan did was to give of his time. He no doubt had some place to be--an appointment to be kept--a customer to see. But he interrupted his journey, took the time to administer first aid, put the victim on his own donkey, got him to an inn, stayed the night, and cared for him.

Time is the hardest thing for us to give one another. Michael Quoist has written: “When I was young, my mother was going to read me a story, but she had to wax the bathroom floor and there wasn't time. When I was young, my grandparents were going to come for Christmas, but they couldn't get someone to feed the dogs, and my grandfather did not like the cold weather, and besides, they didn't have time. When I was young, my father was going to listen to me read my essay on ‘What I Want to Be When I Grow Up’ but there was Monday night football and there wasn't time. When I grew up and left home to be married, I was going to sit down with Mom and Dad and tell them I loved them and would miss them, but my best man was honking the horn in front of my house, so there wasn't time.”

When we do give our time, it is an expression of love. A young woman, who was an attorney, lived 500 miles away from her elderly father. They had not seen each other for a number of months. The father called her and asked, "When are you going to visit?" His daughter proceeded to tell him about all the demands on her time, her court schedule, and various other meetings which would prevent her from visiting. The father then said, "Tell me, when I die, do you intend to come to my funeral?" The woman responded, "Dad, I can't believe you'd even ask such a question! Of course I'd come to your funeral." "Okay," said the father, "let's make a deal. Forget the funeral. I need you now more than I will then." Showing love to someone requires that we take time.

Another thing we learn from the Samaritan is that he did what he could do. He bound the man's wounds, he poured on the oil and wine, he lifted the man, he got the victim to an inn. The lawyer who asked Jesus the questions would have been content to discuss generalities. He wanted to engage Jesus in a conversation about neighborliness and let it go at that. I have attended conferences that were willing to spend several days arriving at definitions and then adjourn as though they had accomplished something. Discussion became a substitute for action. Jesus didn't give in to a philosophical discussion of neighborliness. Instead, he gave a specific illustration.

Of course, big undertakings do require planning and organization, but for most of us, our expressions of love need to match our circumstances and opportunities. The New York Times carried a story a while back about a 33-year-old cab driver who says that he "prayed to God for guidance on how to help the forgotten people of the streets who exist in life's shadows." As he recalls it, God replied: "Make eight pounds of spaghetti, throw it in a pot, give it out on 103rd Street and Broadway with no conditions, and people will come." He did, they came, and now he goes from door to door giving people food to eat.

A pastor tells of a woman who lived in Woodville, Texas. She was a member of the United Methodist Church, who practiced a "stewardship of love." She had a debilitating illness and was sentenced to the life of an invalid. She had a telephone placed next to her bed, and whenever she became aware of someone in the community with a problem or a sorrow, she could not go visit, but she could phone and say, "I want you to know I'm thinking of you, and during these days of trouble I'm praying for you."

The first President Bush was trying to turn the citizens of our country on to doing the doable when he spoke of a "thousand points of light"--individuals rendering those personal services of which they are capable.

The Samaritan also stayed with the helping process for as long as necessary. He did more than take the man to the inn. He disrupted his journey, he stayed a day later, he gave extra money, and even obligated himself into the future. He didn't stop with first aid; he was interested in seeing the victim restored.

Torey Hayden, in her book, One Child, tells of a little girl who was forced out of the family car and left stranded against the guardrail of a freeway. She was picked up by someone and turned over to social services. The girl was almost mute, acting more like an animal than a human being. Eventually, she was placed in a special education class taught by Ms. Hayden, who saw something special in the girl and coaxed that something into life. The girl became very dependent upon Torey and didn't want to let Torey out of her sight. When Torey had to break some of the patterns they had established so that Torey could continue with her own life, the girl became angry and rebellious. The teacher explained that their relationship had to change for the good of both of them, but that Torey still cared for the girl. "How can you expect so much of me?" she asked. The girl responded, "Because, when you save somebody, you 'sponsible."

I wouldn't want to suggest that the girl was right in expecting the teacher to devote her life to the girl, because the teacher had helped the girl, but she was right to the degree that it isn't enough just to save a person from a calamity and then abandon them. If we pull a person from an icy stream, we still must see that there is follow-up care. If we take a person to the emergency room, we don't just dump them off at the door. When we feed somebody who is hungry, we have done something that is specific, concrete, and useful, but we must not content ourselves that we have done all that it is necessary to do. A Thanksgiving basket helps, but it isn't the solution to hunger. Since the time he told this story, Jesus has stamped it on Christian hearts, "When you save somebody, you 'sponsible."

It is with the condition of the human heart that this whole parable has been dealing. It is the heart, not the mind, that will save society. The lawyer who asked Jesus the question already knew what the Mosaic law said. The priest and the Levite were professionals who knew how to interpret the law--they just didn't apply it to themselves. The difference in the Samaritan is made clear by Jesus when Jesus says of the Samaritan that "he had compassion."

In a Christian missionary magazine Larry Dinkins writes about what he observed in Thailand. "Feet are the least honored part of a Thai's anatomy," he writes. "The thought of touching even a well person's foot is offensive to the Thai. At the clinics I saw nurses not only touch, but gently cradle, ulcerous limbs as they washed and bandaged them. Edith Barrett worked in northeast Thailand with the Christian and Missionary Alliance. Although not trained as a nurse, her job was to wash the feet of leprosy patients at their clinics. She lined her patients up in a row, starting with the less severe and ending with the more drastic cases. She told me, 'You know, we Christian and Missionary Alliance people believe in the soon return of our Lord. Sometimes I pray, Come quickly, Lord Jesus, come quickly before I have to wash this last patient.'"

It isn't the mind that keeps a person doing what the person finds distasteful, because the mind rebels and says, "There is no profit for me in doing this." It is the heart, in tune with God, that enables us to act with compassion.

The lawyer provides the occasion for this story by asking the question, "Who is my neighbor?" But the question Jesus answers is, "What kind of neighbor should I be?" for at the end of the story he asks the lawyer, "Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?" When the lawyer responded, "The one who showed him mercy," Jesus challenged him as he challenges us, "Go and do likewise."