This parable is as relevant as if Jesus first told it this morning …

Earlier this morning I shared a post about a story from the Book of Acts that is wildly relevant to how many people live their lives.

Along with that story, there’s a parable Jesus told that is as relevant to how so many people live in the 21st century that you would think Jesus told the story for the first time just this morning!

It’s the story of the Good Samaritan. The context of that story is this …

“One day an expert in religious law stood up to test Jesus by asking him this question: ‘Teacher, what should I do to inherit eternal life?’ Jesus replied, ‘What does the law of Moses say? How do you read it?’ The man answered, ‘You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your strength, and all your mind. And, Love your neighbor as yourself.’ “Right!’ Jesus told him. ‘Do this and you will live!’ The man wanted to justify his actions, so he asked Jesus, ‘And who is my neighbor?'” Luke 10:25-29.

Jesus just acknowledged the instruction for us to love our neighbors as ourselves, and the man’s question of “Who is my neighbor?” is really a question of who are we supposed to love?

Jesus answered that with a parable …

“Jesus replied with a story: ‘A Jewish man was traveling from Jerusalem down to Jericho, and he was attacked by bandits. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him up, and left him half dead beside the road.

“By chance a priest came along. But when he saw the man lying there, he crossed to the other side of the road and passed him by. A Temple assistant [Levite] walked over and looked at him lying there, but he also passed by on the other side.

“Then a despised Samaritan came along, and when he saw the man, he felt compassion for him. Going over to him, the Samaritan soothed his wounds with olive oil and wine and bandaged them. Then he put the man on his own donkey and took him to an inn, where he took care of him. The next day he handed the innkeeper two silver coins, telling him, ‘Take care of this man. If his bill runs higher than this, I’ll pay you the next time I’m here.’

“‘Now which of these three would you say was a neighbor to the man who was attacked by bandits?’ Jesus asked.

The man replied, ‘The one who showed him mercy.’

Then Jesus said, ‘Yes, now go and do the same,'” Luke 10:30-37.

The two people who were NOT the heroes in this story are the two who represented the religious people — religious leaders! — of the day.

First a priest comes along. It’s not just that the priest refused to help a man beaten half to death and left to die, notice this: “… he crossed to the other side of the road and passed him by.” Did the priest think that after seeing a human being in great need that putting distance between him — crossing to the other side of the road — would erase his responsibility to help? It’s almost as if the priest thought he could claim ignorance by crossing the road like he didn’t see anything.

But he did.

He didn’t help, just went out of his way to get away from the beaten and abandoned man.

The Levite not only did the same thing but added a truly gross behavior so many do today. Before crossing the road and cutting from the scene, here’s what the Levite did: “A Temple assistant [Levite] walked over and looked at him lying there …” Apparently he had some kind of curiosity of what a man beaten half to death looked like, but even more closely seeing his condition wasn’t enough to move him to compassion or stir any desire to help.

“… but he also passed by on the other side.”

Scurrying across the road to pretend like we didn’t see anything …

Or, “rubber-necking” to see the gory details before running away are the same kind of behaviors we practice today when we’re faced with someone in great need.

You can imagine the excuses …

“It would take too much time to help …”

“I’m too important …”

“That’s too messy for me …”

“Helping would be too expensive …”

“I don’t know what to do …”

“I don’t have the skills …”

“I didn’t see anything …”

Yet, when you walk by someone you see who’s beaten half to death — physically, or otherwise — you’re really saying, “I just don’t care.”

To cross the street and scurry along is a failure to love.

But we’re to love our neighbors as ourselves.

And who is our neighbor?

The ones we see in need, even if we cross the street pretending to not notice at all.

And certainly the ones whose suffering we pause to gawk at.

Can you imagine a parable more fresh for our times than this one?

Scotty