The Good Samaritan: A Sermon on Luke 10:25-37

If you'd like to listen, this is my sermon from this past Sunday on The Parable of the Good Samaritan from Luke 10. {Note: This is a recording from service, which includes an introduction by the pastor.}

The Parable of the Good Samaritan

25 On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”

26 “What is written in the Law?” he replied. “How do you read it?”

27 He answered, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’[c]; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’[d]”

28 “You have answered correctly,” Jesus replied. “Do this and you will live.”

29 But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”

30 In reply Jesus said: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. 31 A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. 32 So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. 33 But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. 34 He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. 35 The next day he took out two denarii[e] and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’

36 “Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?”

37 The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.”

Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.”

For When Outrage is the Measure of Your Humanity

Even my own living room feels loud today.

It’s not just the kids, all of whom have a snow day, clamoring to get a word in, arguing about who gets the last of the macaroni and cheese, or fighting about who has to clean up the mess in the bathroom {how do y’all get boys to lift up the toilet seat, anyway?}. It’s not just the plow driving by, the kids playing outside next door, or the TV blasting during rest time. It’s the noise of the world seeping in through the cracks of social media, trending hashtags, and dire news updates.

The world is a very loud place these days, and rightly so. We’re called to be a voice for the voiceless, and it’s inspiring to see much of the country rise up as defenders of justice, mercy, and love. But the world is also an incredibly overwhelming place at the moment, and the barrage of media outrage makes it even more so. The rhetoric is full of urgency, panic, division, condemnation, confusion, and fear. But you know what? That’s not how God works...

While the world obsesses about the Muslim ban, the voice of God calms our anxious hearts by redirecting us from circumstance back to Him--His character, His faithfulness, His mercy and grace.

While the world worries about what will become of our country--our women and children, our gay and lesbian friends, our black and Muslim neighbors--God comforts us with the fact that He’s close to the brokenhearted.

While the world publically condemns each other left and right, pointing screaming fingers as the divide between us grows, God convicts us personally and uniquely as we meet with Him in secret.

While the media discourages the masses with the latest biased, breaking news, God encourages us with the truth that He’s still on the throne.

While the world frightens with division, wars, and rumors of wars, God reassures us, reminding us not to panic. He knows, though we don’t often understand, that the world must experience birthing pains before He can return.

While social media rushes us, quickly pushing us from one urgent need to the next, God stills us. He reminds us in a small voice that though the world seems large and scary, He’s in control. He’s not caught off guard by any of it, no matter how horrible, and He’s not done writing our story yet.

The decibel at which one screams on the internet determines neither the caliber of one’s character nor the devoutness of one’s faith. We were never called to carry the weight of the world on our shoulders but to simply bow to the One who has already done so, letting Him, and only Him, direct our path. Don’t let the internet boss your heart around today, but choose to rest in the Prince of Peace, who, at this very moment, is still working on our behalf to proclaim good news to the poor, freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, and to set the oppressed free. {Luke 4:18}

Walking in Humility: Where Division Exists So Does Pride, and Other Thoughts on Loving Well Post-Election

I will admit that I had some choice words for America when I awoke to the results this morning.

My children did, too, as neither of the candidates they voted for at school took the election.

It was an impossible choice, really. On one hand, we had the embodiment of everything that is wrong with politics, and on the other, the epitome of everything that is wrong with us as a people.

And so today, I grieve with and pray for our country. Because, although someone did win the election, there are no winners here.

I think statistics are so interesting, because they tell a story.

Not always the story we'd like to hear, however. Not the details as we ideally wish they were.

But rather, the way things are.

And in this case, the white, heterosexual, rural-residing, self-identified Evangelical, non-college-educated majority has spoken. I know our form of government is deeply flawed, but no longer can we deny the fact that it's those with privilege who get to decide the fate of our country.

My hope is that in our own little corner of the country, we can start writing a different narrative. 

May we remember that we are the UNITED States of America and get back to the hard work of loving one another today. Especially those who are different than us. Especially those who are marginalized and oppressed, backed into a corner without a voice. 

Because where there is a lack of unity, there is often a lack of humility. Pride and love cannot coexist, so choose wisely.

May we rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn. It's so hard to rejoice with others when you're the one in mourning, but do it anyway.

May we be kind, always. 

May we remember that the change we wish to see doesn't begin in the Oval Office, but it starts with you and me.

And so today, I'm going to snuggle with my daughter on the couch. I'm going to enjoy my kiddos and laugh with them when they get home from school. I'll go to church and worship a God who wasn't caught off guard, a God who is still on the throne, and a God still worthy to be praised. 

I'll text my black friends and my gay friends and remind them that regardless of who gets to decide the fate of this country, they can never decide the worth of their souls. That they are still wanted, welcome, and loved. I'll hug my refugee friends, because love is a universal language which requires no translator.

Love well today, friends. Especially when it's hard, because that's precisely when the world needs it the most. 

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This post is part of a series I’m writing for the month of October called, Walking in Humility: Learning to Abide with God in the Everyday. If you’re interested in the reading the rest of the series, you can find it here. Enjoy!