TRINITY XIII

August 29, 2010

St. Augustine Anglican Church

“Blessed are the eyes which see the things that ye see.”

The Rev. Gerald Parks +

          The first few lines of today’s Gospel (Luke 10: 23-37) are not really the introduction to the Parable of the Good Samaritan at all, but rather the conclusion to the account of the sending forth of the Seventy, and their return with the report of their work to Jesus.  However, Archbishop Cranmer and the other reformers must have had a good reason to include those lines in their selection for the Thirteenth Sunday after Trinity; and I believe their reason is to show that in Christ we are given the ability to actually “see” things and not just look at them, and to hear things with new understanding.  And in that context, it makes perfect sense for these few lines to be included as part of the Parable of the Good Samaritan: for it is only when we learn to see with eyes of compassion, and hear with ears of mercy, that we begin to become true followers of Christ.

          “And who is my neighbor?” (Luke 10: 29), the lawyer asked our Lord.  He was “splitting hairs,” of course; just playing with words; but it is a question we might well ask ourselves: Who is my neighbor?  A far more sinister and negative way of asking that same question might be found in the response of Cain, after killing his brother, “And the Lord saith unto Cain, Where is Abel thy brother? And he said, I know not: Am I my brother’s keeper?” (Genesis 4: 9)  It is clear that we are not, and cannot be, the “keeper” of anyone; each one of us is individually responsible for ourselves.  But that does not excuse us from helping others when the need arises:  it is part and parcel of “doing unto others as we would have them do unto us.”

          In a society such as ours, where new and ever more complex ways of communicating with each other abound, real communication between people seems to be strangely missing.  Rather than freeing us and enlightening us, the world of electronic wizardry in which we live has had the opposite effect of making us dependent on it and isolating us from contact with others in the “real world.”  The lawyer’s question, “Who is my neighbor?” is an appropriate one for us today, because in truth, most of us don’t know our neighbors, other that the occasional nod or wave when we see them in the yard – and don’t care to, or they us.

          We are isolated today, but whether that is the fault of our sophisticated gadgetry or more the result of our not wanting to become involved – and thereby entangled – in the lives of others (or both) seems irrelevant.  Either way, it shows us that we are little different from the priest or the Levite of the parable, who “passed by on the other side” (Luke 10: 31-32), and very unlike the Samaritan, who showed compassion and gave aid to a traveler, who was “wounded” and left “half dead” (Luke 10: 30) by the side of the road to Jericho.

          “Who is our neighbor,” we ask, “and are we really our brother’s keeper?”  A better way for us to ask might be, “Why do I care who my neighbor is,” and, “Why should I be my brother’s keeper?”  But no matter how it is phrased, the fact is for most people the question lies not in neighborliness or in brother-keeping: it lies in our individual conception of who we are and what is important to us.  If our concept of “self” is all important to us, “neighbor” and “brother” will be ideas that never enter our heads: selfishness allows for no competition to itself.

          It is hard to say why the priest and Levite of the parable “passed by on the other side,” just as it is equally hard to know the reason for the Good Samaritan’s act of charity.  But it is clear that they didn’t “see” things in the same way.  Our Lord came into this world as a means by which mankind might be able to finally see things which had never been seen before, and to hear things unimaginable.  The priest and Levite were no doubt considered to be righteous men by their society, while the Samaritan was despised and probably hated by that same society.  Yet the one saw with clarity what needed to be done and did it, and the others only “passed by on the other side,” seeing nothing but their own interests.

          What the Lord says to us in this parable is unmistakable: true righteousness, without humility and compassion, is impossible.  The priest and Levite surely thought of themselves as righteous, because they were, by men’s standards; but Jesus shows us that such righteousness is only the righteousness of self, and is of no value.  We don’t know what the Samaritan thought, only what he did: he gave of himself that another, one who probably hated him, might benefit. 

          That is the very essence of Christ’s message to us today: It is not adequate to mouth the words of love and compassion, unless we actually and truly do them.  Jesus tells us, “see things in a new way, and hear things with new understanding.”   Such things are of Christ, and of such are Christians made: “Blessed are the eyes which see the things that ye see: for I tell you, that many prophets and kings have desired to see those things which ye see, and have not seen them, and to hear those things which ye hear and have not heard them.” (Luke 10: 23-24)