A Black Man Was Driving Down the Road...
Man, things are amping up every day we inch closer to the election. It’s always this way — but this year we have a pandemic, off-the-hook racial tensions, and a contentious Supreme Court nomination on top of everything else.
This past weekend at Willow, we talked about the story of the Good Samaritan. It’s a story many people have heard of, even if they didn’t grow up going to church. We find it in the Bible told by a medical doctor named Luke. He tells of a day when an attorney (let’s call him Frank) came to Jesus and sincerely asked, “I want to live forever. How do I do that?”
Instead of answering, Jesus turns it around and basically says, “Frank, you know the Bible. What do you think the answer is?”
Frank has likely heard Jesus teaching around the region because he answers with the same exact answer Jesus has given on a few occasions: “Love God with all your heart, soul, strength, and mind. And love your neighbor as yourself.”
So far so good. But that really isn’t the question or the answer Frank was looking for. He already knew he was supposed to love God and love his neighbor. Frank wanted to take it a step further. Perhaps he was trying to justify some business negotiations or back alley deals with clients. Perhaps he was in a domestic dispute with his in-laws or fighting with city officials over property rights.
We don’t know exactly what was behind Frank’s next question.
But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” (Luke 10:29, NIV).
Who is my neighbor? That’s a great question.
Some of my earliest memories of neighbors come from when I lived on Ash Drive. We moved there when I was about seven years old, and stayed there until I graduated high school. I remember the Thorne family whose backyard backed up next to ours. Mr. Thorne was very tall and Mrs. Thorne very motherly. I remember two doors down lived my friend Jimmy Carter. It was awesome to have a buddy with the same name as the current President. Mr. Leonard lived right next door. He was so nice to me. One day he had a stroke, and after that I would go over and sit with him for a couple hours at a time. He would ask the same questions over and over.
As an adult, my wife and I lived in the same home for nearly twenty years. The Anderson’s, Richards, Derby’s, Pottschmidt’s and Karpov’s were our neighbors for the better part of two decades. So many memories, so many life happenings.
So is that who Jesus is talking about when he says “love your neighbor”? Is he talking about the people who live in the house next to you and across the street? Well yes, kind of, but not completely.
Jesus answers Frank’s question by telling a story. (So predictable, right?).
In order to illustrate the story and make it a bit more relatable—I’m going to tell the story as Jesus might have told it 2,000 years later. Let’s pretend it is the 1960s, and Jesus is telling this story in Alabama. It might go something like this:
A white man was driving from Montgomery to Birmingham when he was carjacked. The perpetrators took everything he had, including the clothes he was wearing, and beat him unconscious, leaving him nearly dead on the side of the road.
A white pastor drove up, saw the beaten man laying helplessly on the shoulder of the highway, but continued driving, pretending not to notice. Another religious leader did the same thing.
Then a black man drove up, saw the dying, naked white man lying in the street—and he stopped and got out to help. He picked him up and took care of him, tending to his wounds with bandages and ointment. He drove him to the next town and put him up in a hotel—staying with him over night.
The next day the black man had to leave. But he gave the hotel manager $150 and said, “Look after him—when I return I’ll reimburse any additional expenses you might have.”
In Jesus’ version of the story, he used the Jews and the Samaritans. They hated each other. The Samaritans were people of a different race, different nationality and rival religions. Perhaps a more current version would be Islamic extremists and evangelical Christians. Or like was suggested by my pastor in his sermon on Sunday…it might be one guy wearing a Make America Great Again hat and the other wearing a Black Lives Matter t-shirt. Whatever analogy you prefer, Jesus purposely told a story where a Samaritan ended up being the hero. He was trying to make a point.
Jesus had this knack for telling stories that made people feel uncomfortable. Imagine the discomfort of the Jews listening to this story. He ends the story by asking Frank, “Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the injured man?”
Frank didn’t download his college degree off the Internet. He was a smart man and answers, “The one who had mercy on him.”
Jesus affirms his answer and says, “Go and do the same.”
Is he saying, “Go and be a good neighbor to someone who is of a different race than you”? Yes, kind of, but that’s not the complete answer.
He is making a point that your neighbor, who you are to love, is anyone and everyone you meet, see, or come in contact with. Your neighbor is the woman at the cash register; your neighbor is the man walking his dog who you pass when you are running; your neighbor is the homeless man begging on the side of the road who you pass every day on your way to lunch; your neighbor is that annoying coworker who you can’t believe hasn’t been fired yet.
He is saying: Love the next person I put in front of you.
John Ortberg says it this way,
Jesus says you are to love your neighbor. Not a cause. Not some abstract group of marginalized people who are conveniently located on the other side of the globe, someplace real far away, where I’ll never actually have to be put out by coming into contact with them. Your neighbor is the real flesh and blood, imperfect, difficult person that life brings you into contact with.
Jesus said the two greatest commandments are to 1) Love God and 2) Love your neighbor. But these are not actually two commandments. You cannot love God without loving others. And you cannot truly love others if you haven’t experienced the love of God in your own life.
“We love because he first loved us.” (I John 4:19, NIV)
Loving God is a bit intangible, a bit mystical, a bit hard to measure. How can anyone see someone’s heart to know if they really love God? I’ll tell you how. You see someone’s love for God by how much they love others.
How do they treat others?
How do they talk about others?
How do they respond when they learn about the need of others?
How selfless are they?
How do they celebrate others successes?
How do they invest their time and money into others?
Your love for God is not measured by how often you go to church. Your love for God is not measured by how high you raise your hands when you are singing. It’s not about how many times you read the Bible each week or whether you cross yourself or if you pray for hours every day. To the degree those things help you become more loving towards your neighbor—then those are good. But to the degree they keep you from loving others, they stand between you and a right relationship with God and should be stopped.
Love God.
How?
By loving others. Start with the next person you see. And keep doing that.