Good Samaritan Time

Preached at Hallam and Martell UMCs, July 15, 2007.

This morning’s passage about the Good Samaritan is very familiar to many people. We have all likely heard that story many times. Even people who have never read the Bible know about the Good Samaritan. There are Good Samaritan Hospitals, Good Samaritan churches, Good Samaritan care centers, even Good Samaritan insurance.

It starts out with a man trying to trap Jesus. He knew the commandment to love his neighbor, so he simply asked Jesus, “Who is my neighbor?” He wanted to know who it was that he had an obligation to love. There are two things obviously wrong here: First, asking “who is my neighbor” implies that there are those who are not my neighbors. It’s not “who should I love” as much as “who can I NOT love?”

The second problem here is also implied by the question, and deals with the obligation to love someone. Now I’ve met a lot of people, some of whom I found delightful, and others…well, let’s say I found them harder to love. In fact there have been many I didn’t even like. I have heard people say, “I don’t like that person, but Jesus tells me I have to love them.” It seems as though there is something wrong about that—and I think it’s the obligation.

Jesus took the man’s question and answered it with a story. His story transformed the man’s question, “who am I obligated to love,” and changed the focus from the person to the act—love is not focused on the person, it is selfless.

Some of the early church fathers, including Irenaus and Clement of Alexandria, saw this parable as an allegory for how Christ saves a fallen humanity. The traveler walking down the road is humanity, the robbers are the devil, and the wounds are sin. The Samaritan is Jesus, the donkey is his body, and the inn is the church. And the fact that the Samaritan promises to return is Jesus promise to come again.

When we forget about WHO we are to love and simply love those who need to be loved, we follow in the footsteps of Christ.

What would that look like today? Imagine you are driving to California to see some friends. You happen to be traveling along I-80 through Wyoming. There is a long stretch of that highway which is pretty isolated—there are cattle guards on the exits, and you are far more likely to see an antelope than anything else living.

As you drive along, somewhere out past the 27^th billboard for Little America, you see a car stopped on the side of the road. As you drive past, you notice that the driver is slumped over the wheel. You decide to stop and see if he is alright. You back your car up the shoulder till you get to where his is and get out and tap on his window. He sits up slowly and you can see that he has been badly beaten—the blood that ran from a nasty cut on his scalp has dried on his face, and the swelling and bruises are beginning to show.

You ask what happened and he tells you that his friends, or who he thought were his friends, were coming back from a wedding. Last night they pulled a knife on him and told him to pull over. They beat him and took all his money, then another car pulled up and they got in that car and left him there. He had been trying to figure out what to do, when you pulled up.

You offer to take him the next 40 miles on to Rawlins to get help, and he accepts. You help him into your car and drive on. You take him to the emergency room and wait while they patch him up, and then you find a hotel in Rawlins and go in. You hand the person behind the counter your credit card and tell them that you need a room for three days, and explain that it is not for you, but for your friend. You tell them that he has some things to straighten out and whatever he needs, tow truck, doctor, meals from the café, whatever, take care of it. You tell them that when you come back through next week you’ll settle the bill with them. You help the man to his room, and go on to California.

You see friends, the parable of the Samaritan is not about whether the traveler was a neighbor. He didn’t get to choose who was on the road or who he would care for. He simply loved.

Would the right thing to do have been to turn him over to the system? Or to love him? Friends, we are called to love—regardless of how much time it takes out of our day, or what kind of sacrifice we have to make. We are called simply to love and show compassion.

Let us pray…