“And Who Is My Neighbor?"

     A farm boy accidentally overturned his wagonload of wheat on the road. A neighboring farmer saw it and came out to help.
    “Hey, Willis,” he called out, “Forget your troubles for a while and come on over and have dinner with us.  After dinner I’ll help you upright the wagon.”
    “That’s very nice of you,” Willis answered, “but I don't think my dad would like me to.”
    “Aw, come on, son!” the farmer insisted, “I know your dad.  He won’t mind!”
    “Well, okay,” the boy finally agreed reluctantly, “but I know dad won’t like it.”
    After a hearty dinner, Willis thanked the host. “I feel a lot better now, but I know Dad’s going to be real upset.”
    “Don’t be silly!” said the neighbor. “By the way, where is he?”
    “He’s under the wagon,” replied Willis.

Willis and the Good Samaritan farmer lived in a different era than we do.  I believe in our hearts most of us desire to be good neighbors, but the meaning of “neighborliness” and the definition of “neighbor” has changed as culture has changed down through the decades and centuries.

 In the Midwest neighborhood I grew up in, everyone looked after everyone else.  If you saw the neighborhood children involved in mischief, parents and adults communicated, cooperated and the situation was quickly resolved.  If someone needed help with a project, often many would pitch in. If you needed a cup of sugar or flour you wouldn’t hesitate knocking on your neighbor’s door to borrow.  Every year we closed off the street for the block picnic.  Everybody came, stayed and enjoyed themselves. 

 I believe the most significant value of being a “neighbor” in those days was a very real sense of connectedness to those around you.  You not only knew who your neighbors were, but you were involved in their lives.  It is certainly not so much that way any more.  It seems as if the more packed in to the city/suburbs we get, the bigger our visible and invisible walls become.  What was considered neighborliness back then can be construed as butting in now.

 I heard a talk show this week where a church leader was being interviewed and she made the point that it used to be in her church that when someone was sick, everybody rallied around with food and support of all kinds.  You didn’t need a committee to organize it; didn’t need to send people to training to learn how to do it; people just did it!   She went on to share that in her church now people refuse to visit certain people who are sick with certain illnesses – especially HIV/AIDS. 

 A lawyer came to Jesus and asked him an important question, “And who is my neighbor?”   It is still a relevant question, perhaps more than ever.  Who is my neighbor?

 The moment you open your mouth to answer you will begin to describe boundaries and limits. We each have our own set of boundaries and limits of who is neighbor and who is not a neighbor.  After all it is a very dangerous world we live, in and it is easy to get hurt, used and abused.  We must be clear.  We must draw boundaries.

 I told someone a while back about a need that someone had.  I didn’t ask for anything, I merely shared the information.  The response I got was, “That’s great pastor, but what does that have to do with me?” 

 And you see that is just the point, isn’t it?  What does that have to do with you and me?

- There’s child abuse going on in the house next door.  So, what does that have to do with you and me?

- In sub-Sahara Africa there are 11 million children who are orphaned because of HIV/AIDS.  So, what does that have to do with you and me?

- In our congregation we have some people who have some very specific needs right now: health, financial, employment, friendship and other things.  So, what does that have to do with you and me?

- I know someone who is dying in a hospice right now.  So, what does that have to do with you and me?

 Most of our answers to the question, “Who is my neighbor?” are descriptions of boundaries.

 That’s what us going on in the gospel this morning.  A lawyer came to Jesus, and at least a part of this man’s hidden agenda was his desire that Jesus affirm his carefully constructed boundaries. 

 “Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”  The man asked.

Jesus responded, “What is written in the Torah (law)

 “Love the Lord your God with all your soul… strength… mind, and your neighbor as yourself,” he proclaimed. 

“Good answer,” said Jesus.  “Do this and you will live.”

But wanting to justify himself he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor? 

 He only asked that because he believed, by the accepted religious definition of the time, he had been a good neighbor.  Back then it was commonly taught by the religious teachers exactly who was and who was not a neighbor.   In the apocryphal book of Sirach it says, “If you do good, know to whom you do it… do good to the devout and the humble… for (God) hates sinners… so give to the one that is good, but do not help the sinner.”(Sirach 12)  You see there were very clear, very specific, very definite limits and boundaries. Neighbors were the righteous and the good.  Those who were not neighbors were the sinners and outcasts.   By that definition and within the accepted religious definition of “neighbor” the man was to be commended.

 We have that in common with this man.  Most of us perceive ourselves to be good neighbors, at least by our definitions and within the boundaries we have built. And we too, might look to the Lord Jesus for an affirmation. 

 What the man got and what we get is a story.  Jesus didn’t moralize or preach a sermon, he told a story – and what a story it is!

 A man is mugged and left to die on the side of the road.  A priest and a Levite came by, but they passed by on the other side of the road.  It’s not hard to figure out why; all sorts of reasons.

            1)  The man was dying.  A Priest or Levite who got within four cubits (about 10 feet) of a dying man made himself ritually unclean and subsequently had to go through purification rites.  Until purification rites were completed the priest was forbidden to practice duties in the temple.  To help this man would have meant a terrible inconvenience and even embarrassment.

            2)  There was no way to know if this man were a Jew or Gentile, righteous or sinner since he couldn’t speak (“half dead” in Hebrew means near death) and his clothes and possessions had been taken from him.  So why even risk it. 

            3)  To help this man would be to put oneself in jeopardy.  Maybe the robbers were still close by or would take offense with the rescuer and the same to him.

            4)  By all appearances this dying man did not appear to fit the religiously accepted definition of “neighbor.”  He was outside their boundary, so the priest and Levite felt no obligation to help.

They each very well might have said, “So what does this have to do with me?”

 Then along comes a Samaritan who does help; gets involved; sacrificially involved. 

1)     He renders first aid; touching that which the priest and Levite would have thought made them “unclean.”

2)     He puts him on his own animal which likely meant he would now have to walk.

3)     Takes him to an inn and assumes the man’s debt by paying for his needs. 

 The Samaritans were despised by the Jews which makes this even more powerful a story if we leave open the possibility that the man in the ditch might have been a Jew.  The Samaritan disregarded all the potential risks to self and attended to the needs of the dying man. 

 End of story.  Then Jesus places the story in the lawyer’s lap by asking, “Which of these three was neighbor…”

 It’s no-brainer – the Samaritan of course!  With one little story Jesus completely dismantled, demolished, and destroyed not only this lawyer’s personal boundaries, but all the accepted religious boundaries of who was and who was not considered a neighbor in Israel.   Holy cow!  Was Jesus ever asking for trouble, and of course, we know what eventually happened to him.

 The Holy Spirit puts this story in our laps today.  Let’s face it, when it comes to defining neighbor, you and I are boundary builders.  We do it for protection, security and survival.  But not Jesus; Jesus is a boundary basher, tearing down the walls we work so hard to build.

 I believe the real challenge of this story for us is to consider and reconsider every day in every situation the boundaries we draw and the limits we place on love. The love of God knows know limits.  When it comes to you and me Jesus is the Good Samaritan.  God crossed all boundaries to get to you – even paid your debt for your sins on the cross of Jesus.  That truth alone should cause us to push back our boundaries for the sake of others.

 But Jesus is also the man in the ditch.  The whole passion of Jesus was humanities’ mugging of the Son of God. Remember Isaiah’s words, “He had no form or majesty that we should look at him.  He was despised and rejected by others; a man of suffering and acquainted with infirmity; as one whom others hid their faces.”  (Isaiah 53)

 Of whom is Isaiah speaking? – the mugged man in Jesus’ story? - or the mugged man dying on the cross?  They look a lot alike do they not?

 If Jesus is not only the Samaritan figure in the story, but also in some unfathomable way also the mugged man along the road it means that our boundaries are being bashed in more ways than one.     

“Go and do likewise,” Jesus told the lawyer.   He meant, “Go and live your life with the courage to step beyond your carefully drawn boundaries – if only just a little bit.”  It is the Christ-like (Samaritan) thing to do.  In so doing you may finally become fully alive as God meant us to be. 

But even more than doing the Christ-like thing consider this: (and this is so incredibly important) When you step beyond your boundary you will meet Jesus in a whole new unexpected way; for it may merely look like an abused child, or an AIDS orphan, or a sick woman in need, or a man dying in a hospice; it may look like someone outside your definition of neighbor. But look again!  This unsettling story suggests convincingly and mysteriously it’s also the Lord himself whose has been left for dead on the side of the road. 

 So what does it have to do with you and me?   Do you see a neighbor?  Will you be a neighbor?