“Mixed Messages”
Luke 10:25-42
July 18, 2004
Saint Paul United Methodist Church
Rev. John Fleming
Three out of four Sundays. Or, if there
happens to be five Sundays in a given month four out of five Sundays, I pick
two scripture lessons for us to read during our worship services. Because I am a lectionary preacher, most of
the time, I usually have four choices.
The compilers of the lectionary lay it out nicely for us preachers. There is always an Old Testament choice, a
Psalm to read, a letter (usually one of
the apostle Paul’s) to consider, and a gospel lesson. The gospel for this year is Luke, which just
so happens to be my favorite of the four.
So, in an effort to make worship meaningful, I choose the passage that I
want to base our sermon on and then look at the other three choices in hopes
that it will somehow and in someway connect to the one that I have chosen. To be honest, sometimes it connects, and
sometimes it does not. So that is how it
is usually done.
Hardly
ever do we read two lessons from the same gospel, back to back. But that is what I wanted us to do this
morning. These lessons come on
successive Sundays, but when I saw that our guest preacher from last week was
not going to preach the first lesson, I had to decide what I wanted to do. Both of these stories, what we have come to
call the Parable of the Good Samaritan and the story of what happened when
Jesus visited in the home of Martha and Mary, in Bethany, are
too good to pass up. In fact, they
almost preach themselves. I love both of
these stories. I noticed something in
them. I discovered that they seem to be
sending mixed messages. The parable
says, among other things, “Get up and do something.” And the story about Mary and Martha says,
among other things, “Sit down and stop doing so much.” So which is it. Which one are we supposed to do?
Those
are mixed messages, in stories that are back to back in Luke’s Gospel. Mixed messages are not uncommon in our
world. Consider your last visit to see
your doctor. Perhaps you were running
late. The office’s instructions were to
arrive well before your appointed time.
So you rushed
to get there. When you
arrived, you signed in and then lingered in the waiting room. If that has ever been your experience, this
thought may have crossed you mind: “Hurry up and wait.” That is a mixed message. Parents, I am sure, never give their children
mixed messages. My own dad once talked
to me about the habit of smoking. He told me that I should never pick up
cigarettes, that they were bad for me. I
followed his advice. But then, shortly
after giving me his perspective, he went outside and
smoked a cigarette. So which is it? The world is full of mixed messages. Sometimes the Bible has mixed messages in it,
too.
Luke,
the gospel writer, as you may know, was a physician. He tells his readers, from the get go, that
what he is after is to give an orderly account of the life of Jesus and the
beginning of the church. So Luke is a
doctor, but he is also an editor. He
took the stories of Jesus’ life, and gathered them from several sources. Two of these sources were the gospels of
Matthew and Mark. Most commentators
believe that he had another source, known only to him. Experts call this the “L” source. We can conclude that the source was known
only to him because in his gospel, we find stories and parables found no where
else. Two of those stories are the
parable of the Good Samaritan and what happened in Mary and Martha’s home in
Bethany.
Seeing
these stories placed back to back in this gospel made me wonder, “Why would
Luke do that? What did he have in mind?” What he had in mind, I think, is the church,
particularly the church of his day. He
wrote his gospel for the people of his day who were desperately trying to
follow the teachings of Jesus in their lives.
What was Luke’s church like?
Well, it is probably like the situation in any church, then and
now. First of all, there are people who
come to worship, week after week, and think that religion is a matter of
following the rules and whose aim it is to stay out of trouble. And, of course, there is nothing wrong with
that. But I think that Luke gives us the
parable of the Good Samaritan for us rule followers to help us see that there
are things beyond the rules. The parable
begins with a lawyer, an expert in the rules, who comes to Jesus and asks, “What
must I do to inherit eternal life?” In
response to that, Jesus asks a question of his own. It is this one, “What do you read in the
law?” The expert responds, “Well, that’s
easy. You shall love the Lord your God
with all your heart, mind, strength, and soul, and your neighbor as
yourself.” Jesus says, “That is
right. Now go out and do that.” In response to that, the lawyer asked, “And
who is my neighbor?” Luke tells us that
the expert was wanting to justify himself, that he wanted to make sure that he
was doing what he was supposed to be doing and loving the ones that he was
supposed to love. His question sets up
the parable. Don’t you just know that
his question was like music to Jesus’ ears?
Don’t you know that there was a twinkle in his eye and that he was
thrilled with he heard the question?
Luke does not tell us that Jesus says this, but I am sure that he
uttered these words, “I am glad that you asked me that. I have been waiting for someone to ask me
that. I have a great story to tell that
says something about who our neighbors really are.”
To
get the full revolutionary impact of this parable, you will need to understand
that the lawyer knew good and well who his neighbors were, just like we know
who our neighbors are. In the English language,
the word neighbor means the person who is nigh, the person who is near us. We know what it means. The lawyer, too, knew what it meant. After all, he was the expert. He knew that neighbors were those who were
near us geographically and genetically. That is to say, those who are related to us by family or clan or
tribe or race or nation. That is
who are neighbors are. And, according to
the law, you have an obligation and a duty to take care of the people who are
like you. A good and moral person takes
care of their own.
Now
listen to the parable. A man went down
from Jerusalem to Jericho. He was from
Jerusalem and so we can assume that he was Jewish. You will need to remember that detail; it is
important. The man left for dead in the ditch near
Jericho is Jewish. He left the safety of
Jerusalem with it’s green pastures and lush meadows
for Jericho. Just outside Jericho, just
before you entered the city, there were large rocks that bandits and robbers
and thieves often hid behind to attack unsuspecting travelers. Our traveler was unsuspecting and was
attacked near those rocks. He was beaten
by thieves, thrown into a ditch, and left there to die. Shortly after the attack, a priest came that
way followed shortly thereafter by a Levite.
The priest works in the church, of course. When my dad worked in the church, as a music
minister, he used to jokingly say that he was a professional Christian. That is, his profession was church work. The priest, you might say, was a professional
Christian. The Levite, too, worked in
the church in some ministerial capacity.
Both are Jewish and religious which means that they, above other people,
knew the law. They knew that they were
supposed to love the Lord with all their heart, soul, strength, might, and
their neighbors as themselves. Now you
need to hear this, the point of this passage is not to beat up these two
men. If you focus on the fact that they
did not stop, then you have missed the point of the parable. They did not stop because if they did, they
would not be able to do religious things later in the day. The point of the parable is not them. This parable is aimed at us who know what the
right thing to do is. It is aimed at us
who see our neighbor in the ditch, one of our own. When you see them, you stop and help. That is all that there is to it. That is just what you do. So the parable says that to be a Christian
means that you have to do more than religious things. To be a Christian means loving your neighbor
and helping people who need help.
Now
it would be fine for most of us if the parable stopped there. For many people it does. That is a good enough lesson. Let us take up the offering and go home. The problem is that the parable does not stop
there. Luke tells us that a Samaritan
comes along. Oh my! In a passage a chapter or so back in this
gospel, Jesus sets his face to go to Jerusalem.
Just after that, he and his disciples came near a Samaritan village, but
that village would not receive Jesus because he was bound and determined to go
to Jerusalem. Jews and Samaritans hate
one another. They want nothing to do
with one another. A friend of the Jews
was no friend of the Samaritans. And so
along comes a Samaritan. Oh my! If you were a Jew living in the first
century, you would have expected the Samaritan to pass by the Jew because he
was no neighbor. You could expect the
worst. It would not be out of the realm
of possibility for a detail in this
story to be that the Samaritan saw the Jewish man lying there, went down into
the ditch, reached for his wallet, took all of his money, cursed him, and then
finished him off with great satisfaction.
But Jesus says that when the Samaritan saw the man, “...he had compassion,
and went to him and bound his wounds.”
Friends, that is amazing. It is
not amazing that someone stopped to help someone else. That is common. What makes it amazing is the one who stopped
to help. After all, what kind of a world
is it when we have compassion for our enemies?
What kind of a world is it when we make peace with those that we hate
and then take care of them? Jesus says
to the lawyer who is standing there, dumbfounded, mouth wide open, jaw on the
ground, “Thanks for the question. I
appreciate it. Now I have one for you. Which of these was the neighbor?” Did you see what Jesus just did? He redefined who the neighbor was. A neighbor is not just someone who lives near
you. A neighbor is not just someone who
looks like you, drives the same kind of car you do. A neighbor, says
Jesus is someone who does something. Are
you a neighbor? A neighbor, says Jesus,
is someone who does something out of compassion for someone in need, regardless
of who they are. Go, says Jesus, and do
likewise. That is about as clear as it
can be. To be a Christian, this parable
tells us, is to be up and doing the most radical kind of service in the world,
not just to those that we know or those that we like, but those who are unlike
us in every possible way. It is to do
something good for those who do not like us and whose behavior is despicable to
us. We are called to be their neighbors,
to be compassionate to them. That is
about as clear as any lesson can be.
But
then comes the story of Mary and Martha and what
happened when Jesus entered their home.
I tell you, we are getting mixed messages here. To the lawyer who was very religious,
extraordinarily moral, who went to church every time the doors were open, to him,
Jesus said, “Get up, go out into the world and do something. Make a difference. And to Martha he says, “I think that you are
trying to do too much. Sit down and
relax.” So which is it? What is a preacher supposed to do with these
back to back lessons that seem to contradict each other? Do you see what I have to work with here? I do not write these lessons, I just preach
them. So what am I supposed to say?
Why
are these stories here, back to back?
Maybe they are here because Luke’s church is like any church that I have
pastored.
There are those of us who come to worship to be encouraged and fed and
whose calling it is to go out into the world to help people. Then there are those of us who are always
doing something and can never sit still long enough to hear what we need for
our lives. You know these people; they
are the backbone of any church. They are
a preacher’s dream. They are the ones
who volunteer without being volunteered.
They serve on committees and do the work of the church. And sometimes they are so busy that they do
not have time to be religious. Sometimes
they are so busy feeding others, that they neglect to
feed themselves. Jesus said to Martha,
“You are distracted.” What he meant was
that she was in danger of missing important things.
I
am back in the pulpit this morning after two weeks away from it and almost two
weeks out of the office. Someone asked
me Thursday evening what the best part of my vacation was. I thought for a minute and then said, “Arriving
in Gulf Shores with a whole week of relaxation in front of me.” I did not sit at the feet of Jesus down
there, but I took a break and relaxed.
There was another question that someone asked me a few days before I
left. It was this one, “You are leading
worship every week. When do you
worship?” The question hit me like a ton
of bricks. I had not thought of that
before. Moving from one thing to another
in the order of worship sometimes keeps you from worshiping.
Here
is what I think. I think that these
stories are here to say to us that we need balance in our lives. It is an old debate. What are Christians supposed to do? How are we supposed to live? In our day, we talk about a personal
encounter with Jesus. That means sitting
at the feet of Jesus. Have you done
that? Are you doing that? Or are you out there in the world, following
the teachings of Jesus? Balance. That is what
Luke is calling for and he does it by putting these stories back to back. In the gospel of John, it’s done
differently. There, Jesus says, “As I
have done for you, so you now do for one another.” That is the right balance. Sitting at the feet of Jesus and then going
out and telling others about it. We come
to worship to be fed and we leave to be ministers. This is a lesson that I’m learning
again. I hope you will learn it,
too. Let us pray.