Oh this past Sunday I so much wanted to preach on a text from Amos but felt almost compelled to preach rather on the Parable of the Good Samaritan. Many in the congregation commented on the ancient allegory that I shared. I think it was during the sermon that I realized that not once was the victim adversely criticized because he chose to travel on a notoriously dangerous road, nicknamed the bloody road. His bad choices were no excuse to withhold compassion and nor are the bad choices (if bad they be) of those who travel to the Mexican border reasons for withholding compassion!
The text for the sermon is below the sermon audio – I wish I had recorded the 10am sermon, there were quite a few unexpected comments from the preacher.
Sermon Preached at Trinity Church, Newport RI; Sunday July 14th 2019
The Reverend Alan Neale; The Range of Compassion
Luke 10:33: “Moved with compassion”.
Two weeks ago I said that “freedom” was part of the very nature of what it is to be a follower of Christ. Today I add compassion. The Christian, the Church is marked by compassion, it should be part of its very essence and it must be ready to call out lack of compassion… even when rules suggest caution.
At least seven times in the New Testament we read that Jesus was “moved with compassion” as he sees people hungry, tired and homeless (Mark 6:34); as he heals the blind (Matthew 20:34); as he comforts the bereaved (Luke 7:13) ; as he sees them distressed and dispirited (Matthew 9:36).
Nowhere better, more clearly do we observe the battleground between compassion and hardness than in the well-known Parable of the Good Samaritan.
The day before he was assassinated Dr. Martin Luther King, in his “I’ve been to the mountaintop” speech, made reference to this parable.
He said, “Now… we use our imagination a great deal to try to determine why the priest and the Levite didn’t stop… they were busy going to a church meeting, an ecclesiastical gathering, and they had to get on down to Jerusalem so they wouldn’t be late for their meeting. At other times we speculate that there was a religious law that one who was engaged in religious ceremonials was not to touch a human body twenty-four hours before the ceremony. And every now and then we (even) begin to wonder whether maybe they were going to organize a Jericho Road Improvement Association…better to deal with the problem at root, rather than to get bogged down with an individual effect. But I’m going to tell you what my imagination tells me. It’s possible that those men were afraid.”
You see how freedom and compassion are so closely entwined – we are not free to show our compassion because we are afraid. We are afraid because it is beneath our dignity, our self-image (the priests!). We are afraid because it is beyond safe boundaries (the Levites!).
I dare take issue with the great Dr. King’s exposition… these men were not on the way to Jerusalem but on the way home to Jericho; their priestly and liturgical duties had been accomplished so let’s not be too ready to offer them an excuse “Oh, I mustn’t risk touching a dead body because it will inhibit my duties for a while.” Jesus had much to say to those who used their religiosity to excuse their lack of compassion… remember “the Sabbath is made for man, not man for the Sabbath”; remember his stringent remarks about those who would help rescue an animal but not heal a sick man all because… “It was the Sabbath”.
Rules, laws, customs (man-made) are not sufficient excuses to stem our compassion.
Oh, and by the way, the road from Jerusalem to Jericho was notoriously dangerous, it was nicknamed “The Bloody Road”. Blaming the victim for carelessness and bad judgement is not, according to Jesus, excuse to stem compassion.
When we reflect on this parable three groups are set before us – the Levite and the priest; the Samaritan but also the robbers.
The robbers’ credo is “what’s yours is mine and I’m going to take it” – zero compassio.
The priest/Levite’s credo is “what’s mine is mine and I’m going to keep” – contained compassion
The Samaritan’s credo is “what’s mine is yours and I’m going to share it” – surrendered compassion.
I’m thinking of those car advertisements that advertise from 0 to 100 in 10 seconds; I wonder how long does it take to move from zero to surrendered compassion?
In a sense it will take a lifetime and for all us will come that day when surrendered compassion is the only option. But meanwhile for us it is a journey with stops and starts, with retreats and advances. The hero of our story shares his compassion, shares his time and shares his resources. One commentator writes, “Remember the Samaritan is in enemy territory. He has just told one of his enemies a Jewish landlord “Here is my VISA card”. Do whatever you need to take care of him.
The commentator concludes “Talk about vulnerability… when you move towards someone else, you might be hurt. But you must be willing to sacrifice and be vulnerable.”
And this, my friends, is again why we must yearn for, ache to be free – here is the fertile soil for compassion.
I began with one text, and I share another: Luke 10:25 “Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”
“What must I do?” – here the authentic engagement is God is put on its head, totally reversed. We begin each day, we begin our lives, we begin each act of compassion with “O God, remind me what you have done for me.” The grace of God is always prevenient, proactive, preemptive – it is always first strike.
The Christian journey calls us to first consider God’s full and ready compassion for us, no matter in what state we find ourselves, no matter how alienated we feel from God.
The one least touched by compassion will be the who least shows compassion; it is nigh impossible for that poor soul.
Over the centuries there have been wild allegorical explanations of this parable; each of them must be read and reviewed with caution but I share with you, in conclusion, one I have come to love…
The traveler is Adam, the robbers are hostile powers and the Samaritan is Christ. The wounds are our disobedience, the beast is the Lord’s body, the inn the church. And the Samaritan promise of return is the Savior’s constant return and final advent.
John Newton (that infamous slave trader who knew what it was to be saved by grace wrote this in one of his many hymns:
How kind the good Samaritan
To him who fell among the thieves!
Thus Jesus pities fallen men,
And heals the wounds the soul receives.
Oh! I remember well the day,
When sorely wounded, nearly slain,
Like that poor man I bleeding lay,
And groaned for help, but groaned in vain.
Men saw me in this helpless case,
And passed without compassion by;
Each neighbor turned away his face,
Unmoved by my mournful cry.
But He whose name had been my scorn
(As Jews Samaritans despise)
Came when He saw me thus forlorn,
With love and pity in His eyes.
Gently He raised me from the ground,
Pressed me to lean upon His arm;
And into every gaping wound,
He poured His own all-healing balm.
Unto His church my steps He led,
The house prepared for sinners lost;
Gave charge I should be clothed and fed,
And took upon Him all the cost.
Thus saved from death, from want secured,
I wait till He again shall come,
When I shall be completely cured,
And take me to His heavenly home.
There through eternal boundless days
When nature’s wheel no longer rolls;
How shall I love, adore, and praise,
This good Samaritan to souls!