We apologize that The Rev. Elizabeth Meade's sermon from July 15, 2007 was not recorded. A text version is available. To listen to the sermon from Sunday July 08, 2007 preached by The Reverend William R. Nesbit, Jr. click here.

St. Charles Episcopal Church
The Seventh Sunday After Pentecost Proper 10 – Year Sunday July 15, 2007
Deuteronomy 30:9-14 -- Colossians 1:1-14 -- Luke 10:25-37;
The Rev. Elizabeth G. Meade


In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

We probably all know the parable of the Good Samaritan. I remember that the first time I
ever heard and really digested this story. I was in high school and I was shocked. It was
the first time in my young adult life that I realized that "the right
people" the holy people, could act so despicably. I couldn't imagine my priest, for
example, as ever walking over to the far side of the road. HE was so… GOOD….so PERFECT.
This parable brought clergy "goodness" and "holiness" into question for me when I was 14
or 15 years old.

But the story did something more than that. It caused me to question my own motives and
my own responses. If faced with the same situation, would I respond as the Levite had?
Of course, I'd never admit to anybody that I'd ever respond with such callousness, but
inside, secretly, I feared I might. And I felt ashamed about that. So, for a long time,
I shied away from this story. I knew deep down in my heart, I could never be the kind of
hero that the Good Samaritan was. I could never measure up.

But Jesus' parables are rarely as simplistic as they first appear. If this parable is
simply a teaching of moral rectitude – as a "behave as the Good Samaritan did" tale – we
might all feel the guilt that I did. We might all scurry off doing good works with bad
attitudes hoping to inherit eternal life. But of course, the Gospels tell us we can do
NOTHING to earn our places in God's Kingdom.

So, let's look for a minute at the characters in this parable. There are the priest and
the Levite, the "holy boys" who act so despicably – and there's that Samaritan, that one
the Jews shunned. You'll remember that Samaritans were shunned because, during the
Babylonian exile, they had married gentiles and had not kept the race PURE. They were
considered outcasts and un-clean – untouchables.
Yet, ironically, Jesus paints the Samaritan as the hero here.

So, on first hearing, it appears merely a story about two "worthy" characters who do not
live up to our expectations of them, and about an untouchable one who comes forward and
does the right thing. So the message is – do the right thing. Act like Christ – act with
compassion. But is that all? Doesn't this explanation kind of set us up for failure and
a life of pursuing good works in order to somehow bribe our way into heaven?

But parables, by their very nature, invite us to look at them again and again. Invite us
to look deeper. They are like rare and precious jewels with many facets. And this
morning, I'd like to look at three facets that we might overlook if we merely consider
this to be a story of the laudable behavior of the Samaritan. So.....what else the
parable might be trying to teach us?

The first facet we might overlook is whether or not parable is asking us to examine our
own prejudices. To ask ourselves: Who are OUR Samaritans? Who troubles us? Hypocrites?
Illegal immigrants? Skin heads? Islamic fundamentalists?
Bigots? Gay people? Your uncle Morty?
Who are "THOSE" people you would cross the road to avoid? We're human – we all have one
or two. But Jesus cautions us that these, too are our neighbors. Go and do likewise.
That's radical love. That's a cost of discipleship.
That is the reckless, unconditional love God has for you and for me. Go and do likewise.
In just confessing our prejudices, we can begin to break through them. In confessing our
prejudices, we can begin to overcome them.

The second facet we might overlook is what we might learn if we asked: Who, besides the
Samaritan, plays the Christ figure in this parable? We know the Samaritan is the good
guy here. We know the punch line is: "Go and do likewise" – and that is all true. He
acts gallantly, and mirrored God's love for us as he cared for the guy in the ditch. But
are there any others?

We haven't considered the guy in the ditch. He's easily forgotten because he plays no
active role. But his utter forget-ability makes me wonder:
What if the guy in the ditch is a Christ figure in the story as well?
The man who had been beaten and was lying there half dead.

The text reads: "A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho" – not: "A man was on
the Jericho Road" but a man was going DOWN from Jerusalem to Jericho. It was a step and
dangerous road, notorious for robbers and bandits. The man going down – the man who was
robbed and stripped and left half dead – sounds suspiciously and vaguely to me like a
certain rabbi who entered Jerusalem triumphantly on Palm Sunday, and was being beaten
and stripped and nailed to a cross by Friday.

Perhaps in telling the parable, Jesus wants us to see that he will soon be in a ditch of
his own. If we can accept that this stripped, beaten, and left for dead man might be
Jesus in a few short weeks, the parable takes on new significance. If we put Jesus in
the ditch, our feelings about Jesus will change radically. It invites us to consider
Jesus' own experience.
What agonies did he experience in Gesthemane that Thursday night? How did He feel when
Judas sold out and when Peter denied being his friend? AND what was it like for Him when
he carried that cross up Golgotha? For us, he hung on that cross. And for us, he died.
If we put Jesus in the ditch, we begin to discover the depth of His love for us. We
start to understand the constancy of his Love, and the ubiquitousness of His presence.
We discover a Savior who knows how we feel, who accompanies us to the darkest parts of
our lives. He's been there. When we recognize that, we will feel a kinship with Him.

For example, take a minute now and think of a dark time in your life. Perhaps it was bad
health news, or perhaps a loved one had died. A time when you felt scared, or depressed,
or alienated. Who met you there? And how did it feel to be in such a dark place?
Do any of these words fit? Abandoned. Alone. Dismissed. Ignored. Scared. Undervalued.
Unheard. Misjudged. Alienated. Ostracized. Victimized.

This parable invites us to remember that we are not alone in our ditches. In seeing
Christ as the victim, in remembering the Christ whose close friends denied him, we know
He felt despair, and that he will accompany us through ours. In acknowledging that the
half-dead man in the ditch might be Christ Himself, we have HOPE that when we find
ourselves in ditches, Christ will come to us, perhaps dressed as a Samaritan, to bind
our wounds and care for us too.

So – we've confessed our prejudices, and in so doing drawn closer to the Father. In
drawing closer to the Father, we're invited to explore Jesus' human suffering in bold
new ways. And in discovering the depths of His suffering, we come to realize the depth
of his sacrifice for us – and the depth of his love for us. We even dare to make the
leap of faith that perhaps Christ accompanies us into the deepest darkest ditches we
find ourselves in. Christ is there in those dark places with us.

And finally, the third facet. In realizing that Christ accompanies us on our journey's we
can begin to wonder whether this parable might be inviting us to respond. The Christian
walk is not about doing good works out of guilt – or to reserve a ticket in heaven. But
in realizing that Jesus laid in a ditch for us, and that Christ accompanies us to our
own ditches, we accept that God's love for us is neither earned or deserved. It just
IS. And when we cross that bridge, Holy Spirit will accomplish something even more
extraordinary in our lives.

The Spirit of God will start tugging at our heartstrings as well. Just as the Samaritan
was moved with pity – and so we will be as well. The tug is unmistakable. Something
strikes us as unjust, unfair, or evil. We start to notice victims. Or we become
passionate about something. This is not us alone. This is none other that the Spirit of
God awakening in our hearts. And then we too, dare to hope that we can make a
difference.
And we, too, begin to seek out ditch dwellers. And we, too, begin to tell the story.

The story that ends with these words: Go and do likewise.