Proper 10 :: Amos 7: 7–17; Psalm 82; Colossians
1: 1–14; Luke 10: 25–37
This
is the homily given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania, by Fr. Gene Tucker
on Sunday, July 14, 2019.
“WE DON’T SERVE YOUR KIND
HERE”
(Homily text: Luke 10: 25–37)
In
the community where we used to live, there was a weekly gathering of area
clergy. (I called this the “Pastor’s Play Group”.) It was a remarkably diverse
group, reflecting quite a few strands of Christian expression, from
evangelicals to mainline Protestants to Roman Catholics.
One
week, one of our evangelical members posed the question, “When, do you think,
Jesus will return?” In response, the Roman Catholic priest said, “We believe
and affirm that He will return at some point, but what we’re most concerned
with is what does the Lord want us to be doing until He comes back.”
That
very practical, everyday focus fits well into our Gospel text for today, the
familiar Parable of the Good Samaritan. It also fits well into our focus as
Christians of the Anglican/Episcopal expression, for ours is an expression of
the Christian faith that seeks to put the faith into action in everyday,
practical, down-to-earth situations. Or, as we would read in the Letter of
James, “…faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead.” (James 2: 17)
In
addition, we Anglicans/Episcopalians value balance in our Christian life. Such
a balance is reflected in my Roman Catholic priest’s response to the question
cited above: We, too, affirm that our Lord will return again at some point in the
future….that perspective gives us the “big picture” of God’s overall plan for
the human race and for the world, but we are also concerned to be about living
life, day in and day out, practically, in concrete terms. Such a balance
reflects a creative tension between the “big picture” and the “immediate
picture” of God’s will.
Our
Gospel for today, the Parable of the Good Samaritan, focuses our attention
squarely on the question of “What is it that God wants us to be doing today?”
Like
so many of the parables that Luke alone passes along to us (Luke is a “treasure
trove” of the Lord’s teachings, providing many parables that no one else does),
the Parable of the Good Samaritan is replete with themes that we find
throughout Luke’s Gospel account. Today’s parable has a role reversal in it, it
is concerned with the welfare of others, and it reminds us of the
interconnectivity between persons which is the reality of everyday human life.
As
we approach this parable, we could examine it from a number of different
perspectives. For example, we could look at the actions of the priest and the
Levite, who, upon seeing the badly wounded man, pass by him on the other side.
We could look at the parable from the perspective of who is ritually clean or
unclean. We could look at it from the perspective of the actions of the
Samaritan (which would be, perhaps because of the informal title that’s given
to this parable, the most usual perspective taken), or we could look at the
actions of the innkeeper.
This
morning, let’s look at the innkeeper’s actions.
However,
we need to set the stage for Jesus’ teaching by looking into the societal
conditions which existed at the time of His earthly ministry.
We
should begin with the enmity which existed between Jews and Samaritans.
The
Samaritans, who lived in an area north of Jerusalem and Judea, but south of
Galilee (roughly the same area as the West Bank today), were the descendants of
peoples who intermarried with Jews following the downfall of the ancient
Northern Kingdom of Israel. When the Assyrians swept into the Northern Kingdom
and conquered it in 722 BC, they deported much of the population of Jews (the
so-called Ten Lost Tribes), and then they resettled peoples from elsewhere
(non-Jews) into the area. In the ancient world this was a fairly common
practice. The result was the Samaritans, who were part Jewish, but part
something else, as well.
The
Jews, therefore, looked down on the Samaritans because their bloodlines weren’t
“pure”. In essence, this boiled down to a racial question.
But
there was also a religious and theological difference between Samaritans and
Jews, also. The Samaritans had a version of the five books of Moses (Genesis,
Exodus, Numbers, Leviticus and Deuteronomy) that had significant deviations
from the version the Jews used. In addition, the Samaritans worshiped on a
different mountain (Mt. Gerazim) than the Jews did, who worshiped in the Temple
on Mt. Zion. (See Jesus’ conversation with the woman at the well in Samaria for
a discussion of this question: John 4: 20 – 24.)
By
the Jewish attitudes of that time and place, the Samaritans were ritually and
ethnically unclean. Moreover, they were permanently unclean by virtue of their
ethnic and racial heritage. There was nothing a Samaritan could do to find favor
in the eyes of the Jews of Jesus’ day.
The
hatred that the Jews of our Lord’s day had for Samaritans was so profound that
a devout Jew, if they had to make a journey from Galilee in the north to
Jerusalem in the south (for example, to attend one of the major festivals)
would avoid Samaria entirely, choosing to travel along the seacoast, or down
the Jordan valley. (Of course, we know that Jesus didn’t follow that practice.
Instead, He chose to go directly through Samaria when He traveled from north to
south, or vice versa.)
This,
then, is the setting for the parable, and it forms the answer to the question,
“And who is my neighbor?”
Jesus’
answer must have been a shock to the questioner, and to the others who stood
around, witnessing the interchange between the Lord and the unnamed lawyer.
“How could my neighbor be a Samaritan?” they might have asked. “Unthinkable”
might be the response that formed in their minds.
But
Jesus’ teachings often have a good deal of “shock value” in them. They are
designed, deliberately, I think, to provoke us to examine our mindsets, our
attitudes and our behaviors.
So
it is that Jesus unfolds a tale that involves ritual cleanliness or lack
thereof, of racial animosity, and of unexpected kindness.
With
all of this in mind, let’s turn our attention to the actions of the innkeeper,
who encounters the Samaritan, bringing the wounded man into the inn.
The
logical response of the innkeeper to the sight of the Samaritan might have been
“We don’t serve your kind here.” After all, the Samaritan is already an
outsider, traveling from Jerusalem down to Jericho, Jewish territory.
But
the innkeeper doesn’t do that. Instead, he cooperates with the Samaritan’s plan
to care for the wounded man. The Samaritan’s goodness may have touched the
innkeeper’s heart, for the innkeeper has to allow the Samaritan to stay in the
inn overnight, in the first place. In the second place, the innkeeper’s faith
in the Samaritan is tested in two ways:
1. The Samaritan pays the innkeeper two denarii, promising to pay him
whatever else he might spend on the wounded man when he returns (perhaps,
because a denarius was the customary daily wage for a common laborer in that
society, the Samaritan’s payment of two denarii might have been enough to care
for the wounded man for only two days), and 2. The innkeeper has to have faith
that the Samaritan would actually return.
Perhaps
the Lord’s intent is to show us that when someone undertakes a good deed, done
to care for another human being in need, then others whose hearts are also
disposed to doing the work of God, will join in the effort.
The
Church exists to make God known to human beings, to introduce human beings to
God, and to nurture that relationship. That is the Church’s principal reason
for being. Once the relationship between God and people has been established,
the Church exists to do God’s will in the world by everyday, practical acts of
kindness that reflect the reality of God’s love, shown into our hearts. The
focus on the everyday goes beyond – way beyond – merely doing “good stuff”, for
the intent of our hearts, which has been filled with God’s love and God’s
presence, seeks to share that love and presence with others who may not know
the Lord.
Simple
acts of kindness and love, done day in and day out, may be the only and initial
introduction to the ways of God and the love of God for a person who lacks such
an intimate relationship with Him. Showing God’s love in acts of care and
kindness just might be the beginning of a wonderful, lively and intimate love
relationship with God.
To
this work we are called as followers of Jesus.
AMEN.
