The Good Samaritan

Luke 10:25-37

The Parable of the Good Samaritan

 Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. ‘Teacher,’ he said, ‘what must I do to inherit eternal life?’ He said to him, ‘What is written in the law? What do you read there?’ He 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 neighbour as yourself.’ And he said to him, ‘You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.’
 But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, ‘And who is my neighbor?’ Jesus replied, ‘A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan while travelling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him.  The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, “Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.” Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?’ He said, ‘The one who showed him mercy.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Go and do likewise.’

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Innkeepers
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Do you ever have those moments when you realize you’re completely and totally in over your head?  I had a cat that had one of those moments—it used to lay around under the bird feeder and wait for birds to fall into its mouth.  One of those days it actually managed to catch a bird, and about the time it got two feet off the ground I think it had the realization that perhaps this was more than it had bargained for.  It took a while before that cat went back beneath the bird feeder.

I think the same thing could be said for this lawyer in today’s text.  He goes to Jesus, ready for a verbal duel, confidant in his abilities to convince Jesus that he could live without sin.  Obviously he hadn’t read his John Calvin, or he would know how impossible this was.  Regardless, Jesus accepts him as he comes, engages him, and tells him a story that not only teaches him, but reminds us of how radical the grace of God is.  In this story, Jesus elevates to the position of hero a man who would have been reviled due to his social standing.  He challenges the lawyer to look beyond the letter of the law into the heart of the matter, and perhaps by the end of this the lawyer realizes that getting into a verbal debate with the Son of God is a bad idea.

This story is one of the most well-known stories in the Bible.  There is something about it that appeals to our human nature.  From my childhood I have heard this tale told and retold.  Perhaps it is the cause of the lost and the weak.  Maybe it is the unexpected path salvation travels.  Perhaps it is the happy ending.  We know the story, and we know the off-shoots: every state has a good-samaritan law, meant to protect those who mean to help others in dangerous situations from being sued if their intentions do harm, rather than good.  We honor the instinct to help.

In today’s story, we find a man traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho, a dangerous road that descends some 3000 feet, traveling through many twists and turns.  There were plenty of places for evil-doers to wait for their next victim, and it was not uncommon for individuals to be beaten and robbed, left half-dead on this road.  The man, the victim, doesn’t receive a name in the narrative.  He doesn’t speak or have any identity.  He could be anyone—he could be the lawyer, Jesus is saying.  He could be us, attacked by evil in life, left half-dead, in need of mercy, crying out by the side of the road.  When you are in this situation, it doesn’t matter who comes to help—any help will do, as long as its help.  The victim isn’t in a hurry to judge the worthiness of the assistant.

Now a priest, and then a levite, wander down the road.  We don’t know where they going, why they were going, or how big of a hurry they were in.  All we know is that each noticed this man in need, crossed to the other side of the road, and hurried on their way.  In their defense, coming into contact with blood was a huge no-no in those days for the priestly types—they would have had to undergo long, complicated clarification procedures when they returned.  And we can imagine that perhaps they saw so many victims of robbery that they had become immune to such sights.  It’s easy to make excuses for them, mostly because I make them for myself.  We all do—we have plenty of reasons why we can’t, why we don’t, help those in life we see down on their luck, in need of mercy, in need of assistance.  Jesus doesn’t accept our excuses, any more than he provides them for the priest and the Levite.  They passed by their neighbor, he says.  

The one who did stop was the Samaritan, the one who would have been reviled by the Jews, the one who might not have even counted.  He’s the one who no one would have expected to help, and the reason this story would have been so controversial.  But he is the one who comes out looking the best, the one who cleans the wound and takes him to the nearest inn, that the victim might recover.  He hands the innkeeper two denarii, each equal to one days’ wage, and charges them to take care of the man until he returns.

I think there is plenty we, too, can learn from the Samaritan.  We need to learn to stop making excuses and to simply notice those around us who are in need.  But I want to focus on another character in the story today.  I want to talk about the innkeeper.

Not much is said about the innkeeper, and he is left in a bit of a unique situation.  I feel like he’s gotten short shift over the years, and I’m here today to rectify all of your concerns about having never heard a sermon focus on the innkeeper.  Think of his situation—there he is, busy at work, when a man who’s out to save the lost shows up and gives him an incredible task—he’s to care for this man, left half-dead by the side of the road, and he has two denarii to begin with.  Everything else is up to him.  We do hear, however, that this man will be coming back to check and see how he did. 

I don’t want to discourage anyone from being the good Samaritan.  I think we are all called to be Samaritans, to see the lost and the broken, and do what we can, give what we have, to help them in their time of need. 

I also believe, however, that we are called to be innkeepers.

How?

I’ll begin with vocation.  The innkeeper is busy at work, doing the job he has been called to do.  Perhaps it’s the only job he’s ever known.  Perhaps he never thought of it as a ministry.  Perhaps he thought that he was too busy to ever consider himself a tool in God’s toolbox, someone who would be capable of doing great things for God.  Perhaps he thought ministry was only for the professionals.

But then the Samaritan shows up, with a man in need on his donkey.  Ministry has come to him; need is now on his front door step.  He could turn these two away, on account of this being more responsibility then he is ready to accept.  Perhaps he doesn’t have time to care for this man.  Perhaps he simply doesn’t want to do it. 

But the need is there, and he accepts the task.  The Samaritan then gives him two denarii to take care of him.  The innkeeper receives this gift and is charged with using it to care for this sick and helpless man.  He could easily pocket the money, safe his gifts for himself, and tell the Samaritan that nothing much happened since he left.

He’s left with a choice, and all he knows is that the Samaritan is coming back.

Do you see the urgency in telling the story of the innkeeper?  Do you understand why this is so appealing, so applicable?  Do you see yourself in the innkeeper’s shoes?

You, too, have a calling.  You, also, have gifts.  And opportunities show up on your doorstep, like it or not, ready or not, and you have to use the gifts Jesus has given you to care for the weak and the downtrodden that are put in your charge. 

When Jesus returns, what will your answer be?  What will you say when he asks you if you cared for those he has left for you to care for?  How will you answer when he asks you if you used your gifts for his good?  Will you tell him that you hoarded his gifts, or will you be able to reply that you took the gifts he gave you, and in your ministry, your vocation, you cared for those who came into your life?

We all have a choice to make when opportunities knock, and knock they will.  Will you care for the ones on your doorstep with the gifts of God?  Will you answer the call?

Let us pray.