Last week, a lawyer asked Jesus, what is the greatest commandment? Jesus answered that it was to love God with everything, and love our neighbours as ourselves. Then, right after that answer, Jesus told a story:
But he, desiring to justify himself, said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who stripped him and beat him and departed, 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, as he journeyed, came to where he was, and when he saw him, he had compassion. He went to him and bound up his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he set him on his own animal and brought him to an inn and took care of him. And the next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper, saying, ‘Take care of him, and whatever more you spend, I will repay you when I come back.’ Which of these three, do you think, proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers?” He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” And Jesus said to him, “You go, and do likewise.” (Luke 10:25-37 ESV)
Jesus set up a high standard, based on the Old Testament part of the Bible, that was undeniable for the lawyer. So, instead of challenging it, the lawyer tries to get around it. He tries to find a loophole, by asking Jesus to define neighbour. If he has to love his neighbour, perhaps he can choose who qualifies as a neighbour. Just the people next door? Just those of my race, religion, education or income level?
He’s asking the same question as many readers today – who exactly is my neighbour, so I can make sure I love the minimum number of people necessary?
So Jesus tells this story, known as the story of the good Samaritan. The two religious professionals, the Levite and Priest, are too concerned with ritual purity to stop. His first Jewish hearers might have been thinking this was an anti-clerical message about underdogs like them being heroes in contrast to prideful authorities.
But then Jesus introduces a Samaritan into the story as the hero. Samaritans and Jews avoided each other. There was lots of bad blood, that went back a long way. And yet Jesus makes him the hero. The Samaritan was a true neighbour, even to his enemy.
Jesus challenges the prevailing beliefs about what it meant to love God. Good piety includes loving care for others, not just purity.
Then he goes further, and tells the legal expert, “You go and do likewise.” He’s essentially saying, “Legal expert, be like this guy, who followed the law you claim to know. “
After hearing Jesus’ command to love our neighbour last week, how many of us tried to find a loophole? Is loving our neighbour really that bad? When I trained to be a paramedic, one of the first questions the class asked was, “When I’m off duty, do I have to stop and pull over if I see an accident?” The answer was no, you can drive past, but if you stop you need to stay until another professional takes over. There’s a loophole – a paramedic off duty simply can’t stop at every accident.
But as a Christian, is there a similar loophole?
Question: How have you tried to justify or rationalize not loving someone like yourself?
Loading Content...
Share a Link to this Message
The link has been copied to your clipboard; paste it anywhere you would like to share it.
A friend of mine had a baby recently – and her husband took a week or so off before heading back to work. I asked him how it was going.
He said, work is alright, but it’s different now . I just don’t find it matters as much as it used to. I won’t quit or anything, but it just seems less important to me.
True enough. My friend still needs to work, but there is a new member of his family who is far more important than every possible promotion, raise or accolade.
We all need this kind of shift in perspective – not by all going and having a kid – but by inviting God to be at the center of our lives.
When there is no ultimate goal or concern in our lives, or that varies day to day, or simply becomes whatever is most urgent, busyness consumes us. We can’t stop it or get away from it.
If God is the ultimate center of our lives, then everything else falls into place around Him. James, who we interviewed a couple weeks ago was consumed by the lifestyle his lucrative career could buy, and lost himself. In the end, he quit, took a break, and eventually came back – but able to see that work wasn’t everything. You can watch the video again by clicking "Extra" or here: https://vimeo.com/72458543
He and my friend with the baby both realized they were enslaved to their work, sometimes without even realizing it.
This kind of slavery to work is something God wanted to prevent Israel from ever experiencing again, or inflicting on anyone else. In Deuteronomy 15:1-2 and Deuteronomy 15:12-15:
“At the end of every seven years you shall grant a release. And this is the manner of the release: every creditor shall release what he has lent to his neighbor.”
“If your brother, a Hebrew man or a Hebrew woman, is sold to you, he shall serve you six years, and in the seventh year you shall let him go free from you. And when you let him go free from you, you shall not let him go empty-handed. You shall furnish him liberally out of your flock, out of your threshing floor, and out of your winepress. As the LORD your God has blessed you, you shall give to him. You shall remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt, and the LORD your God redeemed you; therefore I command you this today.
We’ve heard a lot about the Sabbath day so far, but this introduces the idea of the Sabbath year where Israel was meant to release every debt, and release every person who was so indebted they had sold themselves into slavery.
Why? Because God had released their nation from slavery, and this would be a constant reminder. Every week, a day off, and every 6 years, a year off for crops and for the lowest servants. This would be a clear sign they were not worshipping work, but worshipping God.
That same act of liberation needs to be in our rest. We need to tell ourselves we are resting to prove we are not slaves to our employers, to our bank accounts, to our pride or anything else. We are children of God, not defined by work.
There is more to me than my work.
This inner shift has to come before we try making outer, structural changes to our weeks and years, like we’ll discuss next week.
Question: What would it take for you to see your work differently? What could change for a year, or what life event, would break the cycle?
Just in time for summer's blend of work and rest, Redeem the Commute is starting a new series of daily challenges to help busy people restore life to the commuting lifestyle. This seven week series will look at the meaning and purpose of work, rest, and ancient practices that have helped followers of Jesus to keep the two in perspective and balance for centuries.
