Would you join me in some holy daydreaming this morning? Would you prayerfully imagine yourself as some of the characters in Jesus’ parable of the Good Samaritan? 

 In the summertime Jerusalem experiences temperatures from 84 to a low of 67. If it was winter the average high is 53 with a low of 44.    The old rabbis joked that when God sent out the angels to distribute the rocks around the world, the bag of rocks split open over Jerusalem, dumping all the world’s rocks there. It is rocky, mountainous, high desert terrain. It does not rain from May to October. The road from Jerusalem descends some 3,000 feet. Let’s imagine ourselves as the priest or the Levite coming home from the Temple?   

It is dusty. You are alone, not the smartest way to travel. You might have a donkey, but most likely you are walking alone down a twisty mountain road. You usually travel to Jerusalem with a band of pilgrims heading to a festival.  Remember, how a 12 year old Jesus got lost in Jerusalem because Mary and Joseph assumed Jesus was traveling with all their friends and family?  They did not notice Jesus was missing until dinner.  The Romans keep the road well maintained but the mountains are craggy, with steep cliffs and sharp switchbacks and all those rocks the angels dropped. There are lots of places for robbers to hide and then escape into the wilderness. You come around a narrow rock face along the road, and you see them. They are lying face down in a culvert beside the road. Your heart races seeing the crime scene. The man appears to have been beaten, stripped and dragged into a ditch, he lays there bleeding, naked, dying. Earlier that morning you prayed in the Temple for a safe trip.  You look around for the robbers. You are a priest leaving the Temple, there is no worry about Levitical purity laws around blood or a corpse. You know the Torah always makes exemptions to save a life. Leviticus 19 “Never stand idly by when your neighbor’s life is at stake”  You look up and down the road for  someone to help you help this poor man.  What if the robbers are hiding down that gully? Is this a set up? You have heard of people faking victimization!  What can you do? What can any one person do? You move to the other side of the road. You are never more relieved to get home safely, you embrace your beloved kinfolks, your heart rate settles down as you kneel by your bed and offer your evening prayers. Do your prayers mix gratitude and regret, trauma and peace, hope and rationalization? What could you have done anyway?    (pause)

Now, imagine you are traveling down that same road. You might be in Jerusalem on business, working with the Temple vendors, selling doves or as a money-changer, or even having business with Pilate the Governor. You hate the idea of traveling alone, but it could not be helped this time.  The Romans swift justice has made roads much safer.  By the time you see them it is too late.  You turn and run away uphill, but they are younger, swifter and meaner. They seize you, beat you, rob you. They pull your wedding ring from your finger and the bracelet off your wrist. They strip you of your clothing, taking it all. In those days, most people only owned one set of clothing. They steal your sandals.  Your head is throbbing, you drift in and out of consciousness. You pray, you curse, you weep.  You lay face down feeling the sun baking your naked skin. Your leg feels broken. You are parched. You think you hear the clippity clop cadence of a donkey drawing near. Is this help or more trouble?  A soft voice asks “Friend, are you okay?” You feel a gentle finger searching for your pulse. They wash blood and dirt from your wounds, bandaging up the worst of them.  You are thirsty and they give you something to drink. You are naked and they wrap your shivering shoulders in a blanket. You are hungry and they give you something to eat. You are a stranger and they welcome you in. Slowly as you get your wits about you, you give thanks to God for this neighbor, this angel, this messenger from heaven, this friend.  And sitting up, you take your eyes off your own survival, you must thank this stranger, but as you look at them face to face, you see this strange red baseball cap. You silently mouth the lettering “MAGA”.  Now if you have a MAGA hat in your closet, imagine some other divisive tribalist merchandise. Laying there in the road, you almost pass out again.  You are going to have a lot to think about as you recover- who really is my neighbor, can an enemy be my neighbor, and what does a neighbor do? 

Commentators tell us it is hard to overestimate the shock Jesus’ first hearers felt at hearing the hero was a Samaritan!  Some might have even gotten offended at the suggestion that their categorical enemies might actually be neighbors.  Some of them piously thanked God each morning they were not Samaritans, that rival Temple built on another mountain, that terrible former King Ahab (bleeah).  The problem with Good News is that it does not always make us feel good and comfortable. In Luke 6 Jesus declares “Woe to you when all speak well of you, for that is how their ancestors treated the false prophets.”  

Now, Jesus does not steer clear of politics and calls King Herod a name in Luke 13. Today, I think Jesus might remind those championing legislation that denies undocumented children an education because of their parent’s midsomer status that “it would be better to be tied to millstone and tossed into the sea than to cause one of these little ones to stumble.” (Matthew 18) Christians should have convictions rooted in Christ’s teaching, but Jesus often seems to redefine and upend the labels we cling to. At Belmont, what does our definition of radical inclusion and hospitality really mean? Do we really believe “all means all” or do we draw a few dehumanizing boundary lines in our hearts?

In our story, the lawyer asks, “Who is my neighbor?” We essentially ask this same question in a million different ways: “Who is in and who is out?” “Who should I align myself with and who should I distance myself from?” “Who can I trust and who should I fear?” Jesus seems less interested in answering who his neighbor is and instead spotlights what a neighbor does.” (A Sanctified Art)

Rev. Lauren Wright Pittman shares, “In a world that feels polarized in just about every possible way, I find it difficult to discern my voice, and even more so at times, to align with God’s voice in the midst of it all. Countless media outlets vie for allegiance, using shock and outrage to try and force people to pick a side or develop a stark all-or-nothing worldview. It’s exhausting. The more I try to engage with this binary thinking, the more it all just kind of folds in on itself and falls apart. I long for a faith with nuance that honors the multiplicity and complexity that I experience in my life. I believe that God is in fact not contained by our categories, or influenced by our dividers and walls. What would it look like to loosen our grip on our preconceived ideas, and approach our search for God with a ‘beginner’s mind’? What would it look like to learn from one another and to grow through mutual understanding without compromising what matters most?” 

An expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” they said, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” and Jesus answered not with a novel new Christian idea, but by asking the lawyer to explain their shared Jewish beliefs, “What is written in the law? How do you interpret it?” The lawyer answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind and your neighbor as yourself.” Jesus replied, “You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.”

But the Bible expert wanted to limit the commandment, narrowing down to boundaries where compassion might end and so they asked “who is my neighbor?”  Jesus told a story that still shakes us up. Instead of asking, “who is my neighbor?” Jesus asked “what does a neighbor do?”  Jesus asked will you live as a neighbor: will you be neighborly?   What will you do?

Most of us avoid Leviticus because people have weaponized some verses. Led by the Holy Spirit, guided by reason, informed by our experiences and tradition Peter set aside a part of the law declaring in Acts 10 “God has shown me that I should not call anyone profane or unclean”.  Few of us think twice about wearing shirts made with a cotton and rayon blend or eating pork barbeque. We reject passages banning people who are blind, lame, short, or gay from the priesthood, and so we avoid reading Leviticus.  And yet Leviticus 19 tells us a lot about what a neighbor does! 

The old law does not tell us what a neighbor looks like, eats,  believes or wears. The law tells us what a good neighbor does.  “When you reap the harvest of your land, do not reap to the very edges of your fields or strip your vineyards bare; leave fruit and grain for the poor and the alien. You shall not steal; deal falsely; or lie! I am the Lord. You shall not defraud your neighbor; stealing from the poor by keeping the wages of a laborer overnight. You shall not taunt or hinder deaf or blind people: fear your God!  You shall not cheat in measuring length, weight, volume, or quantity: have honest scales and honest labels. You shall judge with equity for the poor. Do not give preference to the rich and well connected. Ensure equal justice under the law.  Do become a slanderer. Never stand idly by when your neighbor’s life is at stake: I am the Lord. You shall not hate in your heart anyone of your kindred. Do not take vengeance or carry a grudge. You shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the Lord.”  Do this, be a neighbor, and you will find life eternal! 

Do this and live.  Do not ask, “who is my neighbor”, but instead, look inside and think about what a neighbor does, pray “Lord, am I doing what neighbors do?” Stop looking around to see who is worthy of your blessing, honor, goodness and compassion. Do not check with the neighborhood association, influencer, or party chief before offering compassion. Instead, resolve to do what neighbors do: give honor, offer compassion, help out, do the right thing, be a blessing, be a neighbor to people in need.  Amen