There are quite a few Bible stories that are extremely applicable to our state of affairs these days, but sadly too many seem to either be forgetting or ignoring them.
One of the obvious choices is the parable of the good Samaritan. We Areall know the story from Luke 10. Man tries to get Jesus to define who is neighbor is, and Jesus responds with one of those simple stories that aren’t really that simple. Jesus tells him about this guy who gets beaten up and left for dead, and three people – a priest, a Levite and a Samaritan – all walk by, but only the Samaritan helps. And does he ever help. Takes care of the guy, takes him somewhere safe, pays for his care. It’s the kind of story we seem to water down into a feel-good Hallmark moment, but I’m not convinced that’s exactly what Jesus was going for.
I’ve been thinking about how Jesus could have told the story differently, from a slightly different point of view. He could have had three men beaten on the side of the road, and asked which of the beaten men was his neighbor. That would lead to the “they’re all my neighbor” little happy Kum-Ba-Yah moment of truth.
But Jesus didn’t tell the story that way. He had one beaten man, and three well people – three people capable of helping, three people with the resources to provide assistance.
Jesus doesn’t ask the questioning man or us as modern-day readers to choose our neighbor from among all those who are hurting. And sometimes that seems to be how we retell the story – if someone’s beaten up, they need help, and if we’re good neighbors, we’ll help. Everyone is our neighbor. And that’s a very good message, I would argue a theologically sound one, one we seem to be forgetting these days.
But Jesus framed the story in such a way as to show who the neighbor was not by highlighting who should be helped, but by highlighting who did the helping. And that makes a couple of things stick out at me:
1.) The priorities of the religious and the righteous are not always the same
Do we really let it sink in that those two guys who were religious leaders were the ones who turned their backs? I’m sure they had perfectly logical explanations. They may have feared for their safety. They may have been busy. Perhaps they were saving all their money for some important church project and therefore couldn’t spare to waste resources on that one lowly person, who might not even make it anyway. Perfectly logical, perfectly reasonable – and yet surprisingly, those two religious guys were not the ones who earned the Good Neighbor Award.
In our current times, we need to recognize within our own lives and within our church cultures the ways in which we may be prioritizing religion over righteousness. And we also should not be shocked when we see religious leaders make perfectly logical, reasonable arguments why someone is not our neighbor, and therefore not our problem. Jesus saw it coming, and so should we.
2.) Our resources – or lack thereof – do not dictate our qualifications
We are all qualified to be helpers. Some people on this planet have the financial capabilities do a lot of helping. Some of those people do. Some don’t. But regardless of our resources, we are all qualified, and we are all called to be neighbors.
The Samaritan guy probably didn’t have “inn stay for random stranger” in his monthly budget. His CPR training may have been lapsed. And he certainly didn’t have the religious qualifications of the other two guys. But God put someone is his path, and he stepped up. God is going to put a lot of people in our paths, and He isn’t going to do that to create some feeling of hopelessness and despair. He’s doing it because He wants His people to go to work, trusting He will provide, and acknowledging that all we have is His. As Bruce Larson puts it in a commentary on Luke: “Whatever is mine is God’s and whatever is God’s belongs to my neighbor because my neighbor belongs to Him.”
3.) Categorizing people never works out well
The Samaritan is not supposed to be the good guy. But he is. The religious leaders are supposed to be the good guys. But they’re not.
And how often do we – consciously or not – take it a step further? This is the position “Christians” take, so it’s the good position. This is the position “those other guys” take. It’s the bad position. Not because of Scripture or Jesus, but because we’re the good guys. Right? And the other guys cannot offer anything worthwhile, because they’re them.
Just as something good actually came out of Nazareth, and a good man came out of Samaria, people we’ve labeled and written off may actually be the ones God turns into heroes while the religious people walk blindly past the broken and hurting and into their own irrelevancy.