In this sermon today we will center ourselves on versus number 29 in the 10th chapter of Luke.

But he, desiring to justify himself, said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”

When we think about naming and labeling, I recall how God gave Adam the job of naming what He created in the creation myth found in Genesis 2. This naming was not just a vocabulary challenge or an exercise in creative play, but it was an exercise in dominion. In the same way, whether we are talking about a doctor diagnosing an ailment or a chemist identifying the elements that make up some compound, the process of naming or classifying determines how a thing is treated or handled. It’s a potent exercise and indeed a very dangerous one when we begin to direct this power toward people and people groups.

And who is my neighbor?

The religious man, desiring to justify himself, asks Jesus, “Who is my neighbor?” But in peeling back the layers, I found another question beneath the surface - that is, ‘Who am I to treat with the regard as I would a neighbor?’ That is, ‘Who is it that I am commanded to love as I love myself?’ (Lev. 19:18)

This religious man asks the question in an attempt to justify himself. Though seemingly innocuous, this question is a dangerous question of classification that seeks to determine the categories to which we assign people, and subsequently the standards whereby we determine what treatment and behavior is appropriate for and of them. This dangerous question of classification - this labeling - the titles we render, if we are honest about it, these are not just titles, but they are meant in some way or another to define value, honor, or dishonor someone or something.

And Jesus answers this religious man’s question with a story. In a demonstration of homiletical genius, He replies to this seemingly profound theological question with a simple, albeit provocative parable that has come to be known as the parable of the Good Samaritan. The name in and of itself is paradoxical and ironic - a firm reminder of the strange and mysterious ways in which divine providence presents herself in our experience..

Jesus speaks of a man robbed, stripped, beaten, and left for dead on a roadside. He speaks of the priest and the Levite taking turns ignoring this poor one’s condition. And then He raises an unlikely hero, a Samaritan - a type of Christ - who not only sees this poor one’s condition but is moved with compassion to do something about it.

We see an unlikely hero who is moved with compassion but also risks comfort and safety for the sake of another. We encounter the actions of one despised by any good Jew, who invests time and resources in addressing the needs of another’s present well-being, and future care. We encounter an antihero whom we would rather ignore than imitate.

Who is my neighbor?

Jesus answers this religious man’s question with a story. Makes me wonder what stories might we tell to elucidate the simplicity of the Gospel, in a clear and an accessible way - with both conviction and compassion? But I digress.

Who is my neighbor?

Within our current social/political context here in America, the questions of access to aid, human services, refuge, safety, and dignity are hinging on how we respond to this question. But I would add that these current crises are not really new ones.

The history of our nation at least here in America is marred by the moral failures of both individuals and institutions (Church and State alike) that have not embodied the heart of what it means to be a good neighbor. In much the same way as the lawyer in the text, we (that is, those of us who are part of this religious establishment) would much rather label people than love them. We would much rather engage in intellectual calisthenics that lead us toward rational disobedience rather than to embody the simple message of Christ. We privilege our categories over the command to compassion. We privilege our categories over the conviction that accompanies the spirit of love that is the spirit of Christ.

And then very personally, I have encountered the burden of being misjudged based on stereotypes related to my appearance. Black, and male, certain size and stature – ‘you must be an athlete, you’re threatening, you’re aggressive, you’re intimidating…’ I’ve encountered countless insults to both my intelligence and my humanity from teachers, police officers, salespeople, restaurant servers, loan officers, professors, doctors, preachers, and even church folk, and sometimes even folks that look just like me. I’ve endured both the left-handed compliments and the liberal well-intendedness that would identify me as exceptional or ‘so articulate’ despite their limited relationships and exposure to so-called people, ‘like me.’

But then, I have also encountered how quickly I can slip from victim to offender, when I encounter someone outside my own circle or community. How I can so quickly become judgmental or dismissive, while presenting a veneer of compassion, civility, and authenticity. I’ve been regularly humbled at my own hypocrisy. A number of times I’ve been so consumed by my own duties that I denied compassion to someone so obviously placed in my way. It makes me ashamed. The number of times I’ve justified this behavior because I made a judgment, I applied a label, or I made a decision about someone’s worth without getting close enough to see them – that is to really see them!

So, it’s not from some moral ‘high horse’ that I offer such critique of the church but is with the utmost humility and with deep love that I call out, in the Church, what Jesus calls out in this religious man, in this parable.

The simple truth is that the church in America has failed to embrace this message of neighborliness. There is no greater witness than our current social/polictical climate. Yes, there have been momentary corrections and myriad efforts by well-meaning individuals and institutions that have sought to address our nation’s ills with charity. But this charity, as we have exercised it, is a poor substitute for the love and justice that would make such charity unnecessary. And, as a result, the world watching stumbles at our faulty witness.
 
You see, our identity (as Christians – as the Church) is bound as doctor King would say to our relationship with God the Father through Christ, but it is also inextricably linked to our relationship with one another. Without dereliction or discrimination, our foremost and most consequential efforts must be toward full expression of our love for God through our love for our neighbors. The identity and witness of the church, in many ways, are affirmed or undermined on how we level and answer this important question:

Who is my neighbor?

We simply cannot profess love for GOD while debasing, degrading, dismissing, or disregarding the other. We cannot be good neighbors by being passive witnesses to terrible acts against those created in the very image and likeness of God. We cannot be good neighbors; we cannot love others well while actively excluding and dissociating ourselves from those we have labeled as ‘other.’

So how about we lose the labels, and learn to love one another well, even as Christ loves each of us?

Who is my neighbor?
Who is worthy of love?
Who deserves this grace?
Who is worthy of dignity?

On the one hand, my cynical mind would say, ‘none of us,’ but then Jesus reminds me that this love is for every single one of us!

Jesus answers this religious man’s, self-justifying question with a story. And He challenges the Church today with the same.

Who is my neighbor? That is - who is worthy of love and dignity? Who deserves compassion?

Jesus says ‘Everyone who needs it...’

Everyone who needs it. We are all poor and needy, despite our wealth, or position, we are all spiritually and morally bankrupt, bereft of hope. We need this compassion, we need this love. And as we receive it freely by the grace of God may we offer it to others. May we offer it to others that we covet for ourselves….

And behold, a lawyer stood up to put him to the test, saying, “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” He said to him, “What is written in the Law? How do you read it?” And he answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.” And he said to him, “You have answered correctly; do this, and you will live.”

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, 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, Jesus asked, 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.” This is God’s word for his people.