Mercy on the Other Side
Luke 10:25-37, the story of the Good Samaritan
Last week Zane and Theo and I were biking to a nearby playground and we struck up a conversation with someone across Snelling Avenue. We mentioned living next to this church and the woman said, “Oh, I don’t go to church on the other side of Snelling.”
I’ve lived in St. Paul four times now, always within a mile and a half of Snelling. I didn’t know it was such a great divide! I knew the river was, but not Snelling.
I’m glad the good people of Cleveland Ave had mercy on this side of Snelling and came across!
This is the 4th time I’ve moved to St. Paul but my first in this neighborhood. I’m still figuring things out. I’ve been asked to serve on the MN Conference Urban Task Force. I went to a meeting where several nonprofit leaders and city leaders discussed the issues St. Paul is facing. We all sat with maps in front of us as they spoke, and at one point one of my colleagues leaned over and said, “Your neighborhood is fine.”
It is fine, isn’t it. But hers isn’t. Lots of them aren’t. Trouble isn’t too far away. I’m not sure where the dividing lines are: University, Dale, West 7th? This congregation sits in a beautiful, privileged area. How do we show mercy on the other side of town?
Why do I ask this? Because I am a United Methodist.
Why do I ask this? Because I am a follower of Jesus.
Following Jesus is frustrating business. We’ve got another irritating scripture lesson today. We are so familiar with it perhaps it isn’t too irritating anymore. But we have the lawyer testing Jesus today, searching as an accomplished lawyer – no offense to the multiple lawyers present – for the loophole, the weak spot, in the commandment. He asks, “What must I do to have eternal life?” and Jesus asks him to answer. “Love God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind and your neighbor as yourself.” Seems that there is no wiggle room, expect for the one he found: define “neighbor.” And then we have this story.
You may wonder why I memorize the gospel every week – and I don’t every week, and sometimes I will mess it up, and I’m okay with that. But when I do the work to memorize it I have to pay attention to it, understand why the words are in the order they are, notice the connections between the sentences. And what I noticed this week in this very, very familiar story is what side of the road the three travelers were on.
So the man was beaten, stripped, robbed, left for dead. And three people come by.
The priest happens by, sees him, and passes by – on the other side.
The Levite comes by, sees him, and passes by – on the other side.
The Samaritan traveling on the road comes near – then sees him, was moved with pity – then responds in this cascade of actions:
went to him, bandaged his wounds, poured oil and wine on them, put him on his animal, brought him to an inn, took care of him, paid for his future care, promised to come back. Total, complete, extravagant care.
Are we to believe that the priest and the Levite were terrible people? and the Samaritan a saint? That is an easy way to look at this text, but then what does it mean for us? Are we terrible? Or are we saints? What would we do?
The first step is in seeing and coming near – or seeing and passing by on the other side. Mercy needs proximity, it needs a connection, it needs to be near. At least it works better that way.
If you don’t get close, don’t take a good look, you can kind of talk yourself out of the reality of what was there. “He was probably dead. He was fine. He was sleeping. He was a trap.” And they stayed on the other side.
But drawing near, now, is a different story. Crossing to the other side, coming near – it is harder to ignore the human in front of us, it is harder to shut off the mercy in our hearts.
Putting ourselves in the way of opportunities is the first step in acting with mercy.
So this week and next about 25 of our folks are working just north of I-94 near Dale, building a house for someone they may not have met under other circumstances. Each of those people are taking mercy to the other side of the street
Proximity defines a lot of our relationships. And we can’t take care of everybody. If you try to as your pastor I would have to worry about you. But the gospel keeps pushing our boundaries. Jesus keeps trying to get us to take down our walls, to cross the road. Jesus wants us to take our mercy to the other side.
Because this all ties in with that first commandment. “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind.” There are no walls in that, no boundaries, no roads we won’t cross. The way to learn to love God that completely is to practice on each other, loving, with no boundaries, no walls, no streets we won’t cross. Because that is the way God loves us. And we are invited to enter into that love – and then, as Jesus said to the lawyer, you will live. In the fullness of life.
So we spend our lives not being sinners or saints but trying to do better, trying to expand our heart so we are ready to go to the other side, the side where Jesus waits for us.
God invites us to cross over to the other side of our prejudices, to the other side of our fear, to the other side of our divisions. God invites us to cross over, so we may live.
Last week Zane and Theo and I were biking to a nearby playground and we struck up a conversation with someone across Snelling Avenue. We mentioned living next to this church and the woman said, “Oh, I don’t go to church on the other side of Snelling.”
I’ve lived in St. Paul four times now, always within a mile and a half of Snelling. I didn’t know it was such a great divide! I knew the river was, but not Snelling.
I’m glad the good people of Cleveland Ave had mercy on this side of Snelling and came across!
This is the 4th time I’ve moved to St. Paul but my first in this neighborhood. I’m still figuring things out. I’ve been asked to serve on the MN Conference Urban Task Force. I went to a meeting where several nonprofit leaders and city leaders discussed the issues St. Paul is facing. We all sat with maps in front of us as they spoke, and at one point one of my colleagues leaned over and said, “Your neighborhood is fine.”
It is fine, isn’t it. But hers isn’t. Lots of them aren’t. Trouble isn’t too far away. I’m not sure where the dividing lines are: University, Dale, West 7th? This congregation sits in a beautiful, privileged area. How do we show mercy on the other side of town?
Why do I ask this? Because I am a United Methodist.
Why do I ask this? Because I am a follower of Jesus.
Following Jesus is frustrating business. We’ve got another irritating scripture lesson today. We are so familiar with it perhaps it isn’t too irritating anymore. But we have the lawyer testing Jesus today, searching as an accomplished lawyer – no offense to the multiple lawyers present – for the loophole, the weak spot, in the commandment. He asks, “What must I do to have eternal life?” and Jesus asks him to answer. “Love God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind and your neighbor as yourself.” Seems that there is no wiggle room, expect for the one he found: define “neighbor.” And then we have this story.
You may wonder why I memorize the gospel every week – and I don’t every week, and sometimes I will mess it up, and I’m okay with that. But when I do the work to memorize it I have to pay attention to it, understand why the words are in the order they are, notice the connections between the sentences. And what I noticed this week in this very, very familiar story is what side of the road the three travelers were on.
So the man was beaten, stripped, robbed, left for dead. And three people come by.
The priest happens by, sees him, and passes by – on the other side.
The Levite comes by, sees him, and passes by – on the other side.
The Samaritan traveling on the road comes near – then sees him, was moved with pity – then responds in this cascade of actions:
went to him, bandaged his wounds, poured oil and wine on them, put him on his animal, brought him to an inn, took care of him, paid for his future care, promised to come back. Total, complete, extravagant care.
Are we to believe that the priest and the Levite were terrible people? and the Samaritan a saint? That is an easy way to look at this text, but then what does it mean for us? Are we terrible? Or are we saints? What would we do?
The first step is in seeing and coming near – or seeing and passing by on the other side. Mercy needs proximity, it needs a connection, it needs to be near. At least it works better that way.
If you don’t get close, don’t take a good look, you can kind of talk yourself out of the reality of what was there. “He was probably dead. He was fine. He was sleeping. He was a trap.” And they stayed on the other side.
But drawing near, now, is a different story. Crossing to the other side, coming near – it is harder to ignore the human in front of us, it is harder to shut off the mercy in our hearts.
Putting ourselves in the way of opportunities is the first step in acting with mercy.
So this week and next about 25 of our folks are working just north of I-94 near Dale, building a house for someone they may not have met under other circumstances. Each of those people are taking mercy to the other side of the street
Proximity defines a lot of our relationships. And we can’t take care of everybody. If you try to as your pastor I would have to worry about you. But the gospel keeps pushing our boundaries. Jesus keeps trying to get us to take down our walls, to cross the road. Jesus wants us to take our mercy to the other side.
Because this all ties in with that first commandment. “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind.” There are no walls in that, no boundaries, no roads we won’t cross. The way to learn to love God that completely is to practice on each other, loving, with no boundaries, no walls, no streets we won’t cross. Because that is the way God loves us. And we are invited to enter into that love – and then, as Jesus said to the lawyer, you will live. In the fullness of life.
So we spend our lives not being sinners or saints but trying to do better, trying to expand our heart so we are ready to go to the other side, the side where Jesus waits for us.
God invites us to cross over to the other side of our prejudices, to the other side of our fear, to the other side of our divisions. God invites us to cross over, so we may live.
posted by Michelle at 8:39 PM
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