Serving a Broken World (Luke 10:25-37)
Big Idea: Following Jesus requires us to go beyond theology to providing tangible, sacrificial care for all in need, regardless of justification for inaction.
You're running late for church when you spot what looks like a bundle of cloth near the entrance. Closer inspection reveals a homeless person, unconscious, possibly intoxicated or ill.
Your pace slows. You begin to ask yourself questions. Should you stop? Is this person in danger? Would intervention make any difference? You stand there, caught between Sunday obligation and the stranger at your feet. A prayer forms on your lips, but your feet remain planted, suspended between moving forward and kneeling down.
Now imagine if we got to church and began to discuss what we saw with others. It comes out at prayer time that quite a few of us had observed this sight. A few of us slowed down and tried to determine if the person was okay but most of us thought that, really, it was none of our business. What would you do?
It just so happens the message that morning is on loving others. We look at Jesus' response to a man's question, "What must I do to inherit eternal life?" The answer, in short, is "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind," and "Love your neighbor as yourself." We begin to discuss what it means to love God and love others and, as always, the pastor preaches a great sermon!
As we leave church, we see some people gathered around the homeless man. Right away, you think, "Those people should be in church!" If they really loved God, that's where they would be instead of helping some homeless person. And you go home shaking your head. What's the world coming to, with homeless people right around the corner and crowds of people standing outside instead of going to church? They need to learn a thing or two about love.
I wonder, what would you have done? What would I have done? We can talk about being a church that serves a broken world, but the question comes down to this one: What would you have done about the homeless person?
You're probably familiar with a story Jesus told like this. It was in response to a question from a lawyer—right away you know there's going to be a problem! In Luke 10:29, a lawyer seeks to justify himself. When Jesus instructs him to love his neighbor, he asks, "Who is my neighbor?" The lawyer was no doubt aware of an ancient book of wisdom, Sirach 12:1-4, that tells its readers not to help a sinner. The lawyer is arguing that our duty is to love and support only God's people, not others.
The scene Jesus described was the treacherous 17-mile journey from Jericho to Jerusalem, a route known for its danger. Perhaps the equivalent would be the seedy parts of the inner city in the middle of the night. Thieves sometimes lurked in the caves, jumping travelers as they passed. Jesus tells of a man who is ambushed and robbed, left for dead at the side of the road. You know the story. A priest and a Levite pass by. The wounded man could have thought, "Here comes help!" But the religious men pass on the other side of the road and leave the victim lying there.
And then along comes a Samaritan – a half-breed despised by the Jews. We call this man "the good Samaritan," but this would have been an oxymoron back then. A good Samaritan? That's like saying "Good grief!" or "executive decision." The words just don't belong together! Jesus explains his actions. He bandages the man's wounds, applies oil, places him on a donkey, takes him to an inn, cares for him, and leaves money for two weeks of recovery. He asks the innkeeper to keep a running tab for any extra costs until he returns. Now that's ministry!
Somebody has said:
To the expert in the law, the wounded man was a subject to discuss; to the robbers, the wounded man was someone to use and exploit; to the religious men, the wounded man was a problem to be avoided; to the innkeeper, the wounded man was a customer to serve for a fee; to the Samaritan, the wounded man was a human being worth being cared for and loved.
Every day we pass by wounded people. There is no country, no city, no postal code without them. There are hurting souls within rock-throwing distance of this church. What are we going to do with them, individually and as a church?
Serving a Broken World
How do we serve a broken world? Somebody has made three observations from this passage. Here's the first.
Lack of love is easy to justify, even though it is never right.
Perhaps the priest and Levite feared being rendered unclean from touching what looked like a dead corpse. Maybe they were afraid of being ambushed themselves if they stopped to help the man. Maybe they thought, "If we help this guy, we have to help everyone." Maybe they were late; we don't know. I would venture to guess that they believed they had very good reasons not to help the man.
The priest and Levite may have had theological reasons for not helping the robbery victim. An ancient book of Jewish wisdom told its readers not to help a sinner. Their theology could have led them to inaction. I've heard similar theology in the church. Some quote Jesus' statement that we'll always have the poor with us as a reason not to do anything about it. They don't realize that Jesus was quoting from Deuteronomy 15:11:
There will always be poor people in the land. Therefore I command you to be openhanded toward your brothers and toward the poor and needy in your land. (Deuteronomy 15:11)
In other words, Jesus wasn't saying, "There will always be poor people in the land. Therefore, don't try to help them." Instead, it was meant as an incentive to generosity. "There will always be poor people in the land. Therefore, always be generous." We'll always have the poor among us, but that doesn't mean we can't show God's love to our neighbor who is poor.
Some say that Jesus' ministry is about the spirit and not the body. They draw an artificial distinction between ministering to someone's physical needs and someone's spiritual needs. Jesus' ministry focused on both aspects. The Gospels show how he cared for the sick and the needy. Jesus taught that when we help the hungry, provide drinks to the thirsty, or clothe the needy, we are serving God.
Look at the teachings and example of the early church:
Selling their possessions and goods, they gave to anyone as he had need. (Acts 2:45)
Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers. (Galatians 6:10)
Many Scriptures speak of dealing with issues of injustice and oppression (Leviticus 25:8-55; Isaiah 58:6-14, 61:1-2; Luke 14:12-14). A clear reading of the Scripture will show that God does have an intense concern for the poor.
Sometimes we use the excuse that the pain in the world is so vast that we don't know where to begin or how we can even make a dent in what needs doing. A better attitude might be to pitch in where you see a need and an ability to help. You can't help everywhere, but maybe you can help right here. A storm in Florida brought in tens of thousands of starfish. A little boy went along throwing them back in the water, one by one. An old man came by and said, "Kid, even if you stayed here all day, you wouldn't even make a difference because there are so many." The boy threw another one in and said, "I think I just made a difference for that one." We can always think of reasons not to show love to a broken world, but our reasons are seldom right.
Lack of love is easy to justify, even though it is never right. We notice something else:
Our neighbor is anyone in need, regardless of their race, creed, or background.
There was deep hostility between Jews and Samaritans. You would likely guess that the Samaritan would be the least likely to help a Jewish robbery victim compared to a priest or a Levite. A Samaritan assisting a Jew? Unthinkable. And yet, Jesus flips the script. Neighbors, it turns out, can come from the most unexpected places.
The lawyer's effort to define his neighbors was a way to control who he believed was worthy of his love. But Jesus doesn’t let him stay in that position of superiority. Instead, Jesus asks him to imagine himself as the one in need. The Jewish victim in the story depends on help from someone he once viewed as a "bad guy." And the so-called bad guy, the Samaritan, is the one who shows mercy. Jesus uses this story to challenge the lawyer’s assumptions: learn how to be a neighbor from someone you’d least expect. And don’t just see yourself as the one offering help—picture yourself as the one who needs it.
Loving God means we can’t place limits on who we are called to love as our neighbor. When you see a homeless person on the street, that’s your neighbor. When you encounter someone struggling with addiction, that’s your neighbor. According to Jesus, our neighbor is anyone we come across who is in need. Wherever you live, there are people nearby who need help. There's no reason to ignore it. Jesus urges us to love unconditionally, recognize the worth of every person, and be neighbors who embody God's limitless love.
It's easy to justify a lack of love, but it's never acceptable. Our neighbor is anyone in need, regardless of their race, creed, or background. Here's my third observation.
Love means acting to meet the person's need.
The Good Samaritan was a risk-taker. He was compassionate and willing to get involved. When the Good Samaritan found the injured man, he didn't just give him money, food, clothing, or religious pamphlets. Instead, he got up close and personal. He dirtied his hands tending to the man's wounds. He gave sacrificially – of his time and his money.
An article in Christianity Today highlights that many church outreach programs distance the poor and provide only "commodified" mercy. The church father Gregory of Nyssa defined mercy as "a voluntary sorrow that joins itself to the sufferings of another." The article continues, "Genuine compassion entangles our lives with the lives of the needy, and sometimes brings grief."
On Thanksgiving Day, a 23-year-old mother involved in a church tutoring program was killed by her ex-boyfriend. There were few dry eyes in the sanctuary when the church announced the tragedy. The church had a connection to the family, making this crime feel personal rather than just another statistic. This is risky, and it exposes us to the possibility of being hurt. Ministry should be relational, involving the sharing of our time, money, and ourselves. Only then can we have a lasting impact.
Our church needs to think creatively of ways we can reach out and make a lasting difference. The possibilities are endless. Mother's day out, so that young mothers can get the sanity break they need. Foster parenting. Building houses with Habitat for Humanity, using what they call "the theology of the hammer." Do you know about this "theology of the hammer"? Churches often dispute various doctrines, but we all unite on one principle: the theology of the hammer. Christ calls us to take up our hammers and provide shelter to those in need. This is a point of theology with which all believers can agree.
Homelessness in Metro Toronto is reported to be at a 30-year high. It's estimated that there will be a 67% rise in people staying at hostels over last year. Some people put the number at over 10,000 people. A church at Prince Edward and Bloor will offer its "Out of the Cold" program on 21 Friday nights this winter, making it the only church in Etobicoke to do so. They're looking for volunteers. Maybe some of you will volunteer to help by preparing meals or volunteer to help this church in this program. If so, the time is now to get involved, and I have the information.
We, the church, are the incarnation of Christ. We are his hands and feet reaching out to touch hurting people. Christ does not shout the Gospel to us from heaven. He shares it through us. That's risky, but it's God's way.
The church you've always longed for" serves a broken world. Just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many. (Matthew 20:28)
If he served, so should we.
Charles Spurgeon argued:
A church which does not exist to do good in the slums…of the city is a church that has no reason to justify its longer existence… Not for yourself, O Church, do you exist any more than Christ existed for himself. His glory was that he laid aside his glory, and the glory of the church is when she lays aside her respectability and her dignity and counts it to be her glory to gather rather the outcasts, and her highest honor to seek amid the foulest mire the priceless jewels for which Jesus shed his blood.
