I’ve seen so many comments lately reminding us that borders are a human-made construct. They allow us to divide the world between us vs. them, in ways that are not always helpful. One of the starkest examples of this in my life was when I was visiting the Jordan River, which is half in Israel and half in Jordan, so it is divided down the middle with buoys… I don’t think Jesus saw that when he was baptized in that river… We try to decide who can be a part of us and who is deemed unworthy. They also make it easier for us to distance ourselves from others and their needs because they are not a part of us. Yet, there are other times when borders are crossed in order to provide aid when it is most needed, like when firefighters and first responders from Mexico, South Africa, and other countries came to the aid of Californians during the wildfires and came to be a part of the search and rescue efforts after the devastating flooding in Texas. Sometimes, despite our best efforts as humans to keep people out, aid comes from the most unexpected people and places.
At its core, this is the story of the Good Samaritan today too. Even just that fact that this story is called “the Good Samaritan,” shows us the bias that the Israelites didn’t believe there were any good people in Samaria. They had been demonized as the enemy, hence why this story and the stories of the other times when Jesus interacted with the Samarians were so scandalous. Despite what people may have expected, it was the person from Samaria who provided aid to the injured traveler, expecting nothing in return (Luke 10: 30-35). This language of demonizing those outside of our community, convinced that nothing good can ever come from them, is not a new concept. Unfortunately, it is one that continues to plague our world and has been the justification given for so much harm done throughout our history and our present. To understand that a bit more, I want to go back to the question that started this whole discourse.
This is the parable that Jesus tells the man who asked: “And who is my neighbor?” (Luke 10: 29). While you know that I love asking questions, especially about our faith, our reading gives us the sense that this question wasn’t asked in order to more thoroughly work toward the vision of God, but to try to find an easy answer, to make himself feel better about what he has already done in his life (Luke 10: 29a). He is seeking the self-righteous justification because he knows what he is supposed to do without actually wanting to live into what he has been commanded. This doesn’t feel like a question of curiosity, but a bit more like one of arrogance.
I want to remind us that the road in this story was less frequently traveled, even today, which is part of the importance of this story. It’s almost a miracle in itself that three people passed by at separate times. So, when we hear this story, I think many people would read themselves into it in the role of the Samaritan, the one who comes to provide aid, who doesn’t turn their head and walk by pretending not to see the injured neighbor on the side of the road. But, what happens when we read ourselves as either the man asking the question, or as one of the people who continues walking by? How we read it drastically changes how we understand this story and how this story is inviting us into a different way of being embodied in the world.
This is part of why this question and our search for the answer, in both the Biblical reading and our world today, are so important to pay attention to. In asking this question, the man is able to distance himself from the response, in an attempt to intellectualize and overanalyze instead of embodying the response. By doing the mental gymnastics to determine who our neighbor is, it allows us to assume that there are exceptions to who is included, in ways that enable our search for the easy or comfortable path. But, that isn’t what is promised to us at all.
It makes me think about what is said in Deuteronomy: ”11 Surely, this commandment that I am commanding you today is not too hard for you, nor is it too far away. 12 It is not in heaven, that you should say, “Who will go up to heaven for us, and get it for us so that we may hear it and observe it?” 13 Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, “Who will cross to the other side of the sea for us, and get it for us so that we may hear it and observe it?” 14 No, the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart for you to observe” (30:11-14). Because even then the people wanted a way out of the difficult and uncomfortable; there was a desire to shirk our responsibilities of the commandments in order to make them something that someone else has to pay attention to, but not us. Someone else can do it on our behalf, right?
But this commandment we are given again in Deuteronomy and Luke is this: ‘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’ (Luke 10:27). This commandment is personal! If that is the case, if this is what we are truly trusting and living into, then the answer to the question of “who is my neighbor?” shouldn’t matter. If we love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength, then we are called to see the divine in everyone and everything that surrounds us! It shouldn’t matter is someone looks like us, speaks the same language as us, has the same beliefs as us, they are a reflection of our God who created us in love, for love. This is what drives us to love our neighbors as ourselves. At its core, this is what inspires us to follow the rest of the commandments because they can be summed up in these two right here. The commandments, then, aren’t something that should be used for punishment and shame, but rather seen as an invitation into seeing the world as God sees it, beautifully and wonderfully made, and wanting to do everything in our power to steward the flourishing of life.
This isn’t something that we can loophole our way out of, and it isn’t something that becomes the responsibility of everyone else. It is a commandment that is given to each of us, that is written on our hearts. This Spirit of God is present in every breath that we take, as we are embodiments of this love of God. We don’t get to decide who is worthy of that love or not because the divine already exists within each of us. This is what the commandment is inviting us into. It’s inviting us into this sense of wonder and awe at the care that went into creating everything that surrounds us, that compels us to care, not because it is exactly who or what we want it to be, but because we trust when Genesis tells us that God saw creation and called it good.
This story in Luke’s Gospel today is such a good example of what it means to profess our faith versus living out our faith. Is our faith just something we go through the motions of once a week on Sunday mornings or is it something that challenges us and asks us to think about life and the world in new ways? I’m not saying this to condemn the people who passed the man by on the road because they had their reasons that were grounded in their own understanding of their faith traditions. I’m saying this because sometimes our faith calls us to break beyond what has been the tradition or the norm, into a new and uncomfortable territory because God cannot be contained in human constructs and rules. This story is an example of how faith can break open our understanding of the world, asking us to step into it with our whole selves; body, mind, heart, and soul, as we figure out what it means to love God and love the world. Who knows, we may even be surprised by what this looks like along the way!
Previous
Sunday July 6th, 2025 Worship