"More Than Passers-By" - Luke 10:25-37 - July 15, 2001

A few weeks ago a man came into the church who was passing through Sidney. He was looking for a few dollars to buy some food. He had nothing with him, no bag, no sack, nothing. He said he was on his way to Indiana. He apparently had relatives there. He was planning to hitchhike up route 29.

Naturally I wanted to be a Good Samaritan. I gave him breakfast and a couple of soft drinks for the road. I also gave him $10 cash for lunch. He asked directions for route 29 and I showed him the way. He was polite and thanked me for my hospitality.

There was nothing unique about this story for there are thousands like it that take place every day. Why do I tell it? Because I am like everyone else who helps someone when they are down on their luck. It makes you feel good, to do a good deed, to be compassionate and to share. But the more I think about it the more I am filled with shame. I don’t know the man’s name. I have no idea if he had anyplace to stay when nightfall came. I didn’t have to go out of my way to help him. OK, it cost a few dollars, but so what. I wouldn’t have to do that every day.

I wonder if I would have helped him if he was a Bosnian Serb, a dark skinned man from Iraq or worse, a native of Michigan. No doubt my prejudice would have hindered my willingness to give aid. Let’s be honest with each other, we help people who look like us and are willing to play by our rules. Rarely do we reach across societal barriers and give help.

We all like to think of the "Good Samaritan" story as a story of helping others. That may be true but we can’t overlook the fact that the first two characters in the story walked right past the wounded man on the road. They were religious men, holy and righteous yet showed no actions of mercy. It was only the Samaritan, a group despised and hated by the Jews for centuries, who came to the man’s rescue.

Why not the others? The animosity was so great between Samaritans and Jews that any Jew would go miles out of his way to avoid walking on Samaritan land. To help a Samaritan would have been an act of betrayal, not legally, but socially unacceptable. According to Jewish law a neighbor was defined as "sons of your own people." Only fellow Jews, therefore, were your neighbors.

I don’t believe we truly comprehend the gift of the Samaritan’s love. Unlike the others he reached across a societal barrier and extended a helping hand. He also went the extra mile. He not only attended to his wounds, he gave him transportation, a place to stay and money for his journey. He even offered to pay for any expenses the man may have incurred until he was able to continue on his own. Perhaps we can’t grasp the real meaning of this story unless we have been the man in the ditch. Unless we have experienced the compassion and unconditional love of a total stranger we can’t really know the scope of this act of kindness.

"Jesus audience would hear this story in terms of their own vulnerability. They would identify with the injured man. Notice that Luke does not call the helper a Good Samaritan. For the injured man, the fact that help comes from a Samaritan is a problem and an embarrassment. Being helped by a Samaritan makes one unclean, and the two denarii create a debt of honor. It is bad enough to be vulnerable and dependent. It is worse to owe one’s life to an unclean enemy, to be made unclean by having to accept help. We all like stories in which we are the ones giving the compassion: It is nice to be in control and to receive gratitude. We might even help an inferior or an unclean person as a proof of our generosity. But, the story Jesus told is about something else. It is about finding community at our points of need and dependence. It is about being grateful to others and about acknowledging our need for each other." (Patrick W. Grace Conover, Office for Church in Society, UCC)

I can’t honestly remember a time when I was in a situation like the man in our story who was robbed, beaten and left for dead. Anytime I have had a need there has always been someone there to help me. I don’t know what its like to be the minority. I can’t imagine the horror of living under oppression like the Muslim people in Bosnia or the Africans in South Africa.

I can, however remember a time when our Japanese neighbors asked me to "bless" their new born son. I was surprised that being from the Far East they would want a Protestant minister to perform such a sacred rite of passage. It was a very unique experience, one that I shall cherish forever. Our Japanese friends were very grateful that I would be willing to do it. At the same time, it was a real honor for me to serve in a priestly role for people from another faith and culture. It was one of those moments in life when people could be together, loving one another, without regard to religion, nationality or race.

There is a wonderful fable about a young orphan girl who had no family and no one to love her. One day, feeling exceptionally sad and lonely, she was walking through a meadow when she noticed a small butterfly caught unmercifully in a thorn bush. The more the butterfly struggled to free itself, the deeper the thorns cut into its fragile body. The young orphan girl carefully released the butterfly from its captivity. Instead of flying away, the little butterfly changed into a beautiful fairy. The young girl rubbed her eyes in disbelief.

"For your wonderful kindness," the good fairy said to the girl, "I will grant you any wish you would like." The little girl thought for a moment and then replied, "I want to be happy." The fairy said, "Very well," and leaned toward her and whispered in her ear. Then the good fairy vanished.

As the little girl grew up, there was no one in the land as happy as she. Everyone asked her the secret of her happiness. She would only smile and answer, "The secret of my happiness is that I listened to a good fairy when I was a little girl."

When she was very old and on her deathbed, the neighbors all rallied around her, afraid that her fabulous secret of happiness would die with her. "Tell us, please," they begged. "Tell us what the good fairy said." The lovely old woman simply smiled and said, "She told me that everyone, no matter how old or young, how rich or poor, had need of me." (from Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul)

When the lawyer asked Jesus what he had to do to inherit eternal life, he knew the answer. It was to "love God with all your heart, soul and strength and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself." In other words he knew what to do, now he only had to apply himself. But, he wanted a conditional response, or rather a simple answer. If Jesus could keep the love of neighbor in a simple, exclusive way, the lawyer could do it. But, Jesus burst his bubble. For him, there is no limit to who our neighbors are, no limit to the love we can give. Jesus wants us to meet others where they are, to experience a real bond with another human being, although they may be our opposite.

Eternal life, or "happiness" as desired by the little orphan girl, has to do with giving ourselves to anyone who has need. We know what to do. The challenge for the lawyer is the same for us, "to go and do likewise."

I believe we all want to belong to a society that is compassionate, giving and cares for all our neighbors. At the same time salvation occurs when we acknowledge or need for each other, when we can meet people across the boundaries of life.

Dr. Keith Wagner, St. Paul’s United Church of Christ, Sidney, Ohio