How To Raise the Dead--July 2, 2020
"But wanting to justify himself, the expert in the law 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 traveling 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 replay you whatever more you spend. Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?' He said, 'The one who showed him mercy.' Jesus said to him, 'Go and do likewise'." [Luke 10:29-37]
This is nothing short of a resurrection story, if you think about it.
And, in a sense, rather like another famous story about raising the dead, you have to wait until the third act, like from Friday to Sunday, for the moment of resurrection.
The thing that set this story apart from Jesus' resurrection at Easter, though, is that this one is repeatable. This one is meant for us to practice, to emulate, and to re-enact in our lives. While none of us can perform a repeat of the empty tomb on Easter Sunday by our own power, this story is, in fact, a lesson for us; it is a lesson from Jesus on how to raise the dead.
I'm guessing you have heard this story before--the parable we call "The Good Samaritan" (although maybe "The Neighborly Foreigner" or "The Merciful Migrant" would be apt titles, too, to capture the punch of the original) is one of those stories that church folk learn from their youngest days in the pews. But let me suggest that there is something compelling and vital and beautiful about it, exactly because Jesus intends it to be a blueprint for our action in the world. This is what the Jesus-movement looks like in the world: before we had any church buildings or steeples, and long before anybody wore delicate cross necklaces, Jesus taught his followers to put love into action for the sake of whatever person whose path crosses with ours (including strangers, foreigners, and people who are "other" to me). You will know the followers of Jesus, in other words, by the ways they use their ordinary resources with love to restore people to life--anybody, everybody, even at great personal cost.
And those are the stakes: the man laying at the side of the road has been left, as Jesus says, "half-dead." He is on a knife's edge between living and dying, and the thing that will make the difference is whether he is helped or whether he is ignored. The actions and choices of the strangers who pass his way will determine whether he stays in the ditch at the side of the road, or whether he will rise up and live again. The three passersby in the story, then, all have the power to raise the deadness in him--they are each capable of offering their time, their hands, and their help to restore him to health and life. The only question is whether any of them will actually do what it is in their power to do.
You know how the story goes: the two Respectable Religious Professionals walk right on by--in fact, they go out of their way to cross to "the other side" of the road so they won't have to deal with this man. And then, like the punch line for a joke built on the Rule of Three, the twist comes with the third passerby. The foreigner from Samaria (and, wait a second, why is this alien outside of his own country anyway, on the road from Jerusalem to Jericho?) is the one who stops to help the man laying half dead, and this Samaritan spends his own money--including a blank check for the hotel concierge--to help. Clearly, he's the one who "gets" what it means to love your neighbor. Clearly, he's the one who embodies the commandment. And that that both shames the priest and the Levite (who both theoretically should have known the commandments best of all!) and also challenges Jesus' Jewish hearers. Jesus tells them to follow the example of the foreigner! Jesus tells them to copy the behavior of the outsider! Jesus tells them that this alien who is out of his home country understands best how to help a neighbor! What a one-two punch to the usual ordering of Respectable Religion!
And then to cap it all off, Jesus ends his story with a stinger that turns things back to the Respectable Religious Person whose question started all this. "Which one of these three was a neighbor?" he asks? And the expert in the law, blushing, immediately knows the right answer: "The one who showed mercy." So when Jesus answers back, "Go and do likewise," it is a call for all of us who would seek to do God's will to follow the same pattern.
The way to make a difference is to actually show up.
The way to help make the world a better place is to actually get down in the ditch to be with the person who has been left for dead there, even if it means you get your clothes and hands all dusty and dirty.
The way to love your neighbor is to put yourself in their situation and to act with mercy.
The way to truly love God is to be willing to be inconvenienced, put trouble, or asked to sacrifice for the sake of a stranger who will never know your name.
The way to bring someone else to life--to practice a little resurrection, if you like--is to love.
And honestly, any of us can do that in any of a million different ways today. But notice that it's not primarily about "feelings"--it is about action. I can "feel" nicely toward someone, or feel "sorry" for someone, or feel guilty for not helping them last time... but those are really all about me and what's going on in my head. To actually be of use to the man left half-dead in the ditch, I need to move beyond feelings, or thinking, or even urgently posting social media memes about niceness... and I need to do. Love is a verb before it has anything to do with feelings. And no amount of emotion on my part will rouse the man laying in the road. What it will take is love made tangible--love that shows up, that pays a cost, that is willing to sacrifice, that is willing to cross boundaries and risk strange looks--for the sake of restoring someone else to life.
So while it is true that you and I may not be able to perform another Easter morning miracle, we absolutely can help restore people to life, and there are no magic words or wands or wishes required. There is the power of love that acts. Such love has the power to bring us to life, to resurrect what is dead inside us, and to anticipate a whole new creation.
Love, dear ones. That is the power of the stranger from Samaria who happens upon a stranger on the high way. Now, let us go and do likewise, and bring a little resurrection to the world around us.
Lord God, open our eyes to see the needs of the people around us, that we might be agents through whom you raise the dead.
No comments:
Post a Comment