Proper 10, Year C | Luke 10:25-37
St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church
July 10, 2022
the Rev. Jonathan Hanneman
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“Go and do likewise.” – Luke 10:37b[1]
Most people are familiar with at least some part of Jesus’ story about the Good Samaritan. It’s had some level of influence in nearly all of society, from personal interactions all the way up to legislation known as “Good Samaritan laws.” It isn’t particularly hard to figure out the parable’s broad point: help other people. But simple as that sounds, it isn’t always easy for us to follow through on Jesus’ instruction to “Go and do likewise.” It’s surprising how frequently we suddenly discover ourselves standing in place of the legal expert, not even realizing it as we too ask, “And who is my neighbor?”[2]
It’s natural to wonder about what we should do when faced with an overwhelming command. We automatically ask ourselves things like, I need to help everyone? But where does my responsibility end? How will I know if I’ve fulfilled my duty? What if it would put me or someone else in danger? What if I genuinely don’t have any extra funds? Those kinds of questions are perfectly normal and appropriate. But it’s easy to transform them into cover for the actual reasons we might not want to get involved, like simply balking at the time, energy, or money it might cost. We take our legitimate initial concerns and rapidly manipulate and distort them, erecting logical and logistical barriers to justify redirecting responsibility elsewhere.
As Westerners, we tend to approach the Bible in intellectual terms, looking for lists or rules or other structures that will allow us to parcel life into neat categories. We like working with clear and specific definitions, responsibilities, and limitations. We prefer to work with things that we as individuals can control. Unfortunately, that emphasis on categorizing the abstract often leads us to believe that the most important aspects of our relationship with God are also abstract. We center our concepts of religion or faith or spirituality in our inner world, allowing us to tie our concepts of morality and devotion directly to what or how we think. An active and growing inner life is certainly a good thing, but God, particularly as presented in the Bible, doesn’t seem to care nearly as much about “what’s on the inside” as we might hope to give ourselves credit for. God tends to be far more interested in how you behave and what you do—not because they’re keeping score or picking teams, but because your actions are what demonstrate the full reality of who you are.
For much of the ancient world, thought wasn’t quite considered to be “real”—at least not in the way we consider it. Thought was certainly important, but being immaterial, it didn’t fully exist on its own. The inner world was basically understood to be imaginary until it led to action in the physical world. So what we often talk about as the “real me”—my inner self, my consciousness and mental processes, my personal identity and intellect—basically everything going on inside my head—was simply potential reality, something that might but didn’t yet exist. Who you were, you as a “real” individual, was proven through your actions, not your ideas or beliefs. When Jesus said, “Each tree is known by its own fruit[3],” he wasn’t referring to something hidden or intangible, a secret only the tree could know from the inside. He was talking about the physical produce, what others could touch and pick and taste. No one named an apple tree and then later discovered that it happened to grow apples. They didn’t originally determine its identity through its bark or leaves or because of some esoteric genetic heritage. People called it an apple tree because that was the tree that provided apples. Similarly, a pecan tree has its name because it produces pecans. If it stopped growing any pecans and started to produce only walnuts, reality would eventually force us either to change the definition of what a walnut is or to start calling the tree growing the nuts a walnut tree. Fruit—the physical outworking of its inner nature—is the most important and recognizable aspect in naming or identifying the tree. Likewise, the physical outworking of our actions—our own fruit—is the most important thing in identifying what is truly Christian.
All three of our main readings this morning touch on this concept.
Before anyone had yet heard the story of the Good Samaritan, the legal expert summarized the entirety of ancient Hebrew teaching as, “You shall love[4] 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.”[5] But Jesus didn’t just hear that, nod, and respond, “Good enough.” Instead, “he said to him, ‘You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.’”[6]
In Colossians, Paul says he and Timothy have been “praying for you and asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of God’s will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding.”[7] It’s easy to stop paying attention at that point and just stick with the idea that Paul wants Christians to be knowledgeable—that was certainly my focus for many years. But that wasn’t the end of what he was trying to say. He goes on to explain the reason he’d like that wisdom and understanding for the Colossians (and us) is “…SO THAT you may lead lives worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him, as you bear fruit in every good work and as you grow in the knowledge of God.”[8] The believers’ inner world wasn’t unimportant—Paul definitely wanted them “to be filled with…knowledge.” But that knowledge or wisdom or understanding were useless—completely imaginary—until they began to “bear fruit in every good work.”
Hopping all the way back to Deuteronomy and the end of Israel’s Exodus from Egypt to the Promised Land, Moses tells the Hebrew people, “the Lord will again take delight in prospering you…when you obey the Lord your God by observing his commandments and decrees that are written in this book of the law, because you turn to the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul.”[9] We tend to read this in one of two ways. If you come from certain Christian traditions, you probably hear that “the Lord will…take delight in…you…when you obey.” Other Church backgrounds would emphasize, “the Lord will…take delight in…you…because you turn…with all your heart and with all your soul.” We try to put the text in conflict with itself and make it an either/or situation—either “works” or “faith”—emphasizing whichever path is easier for us or better fits our theology. But Moses isn’t presenting an either/or situation: we’ve invented the conflict to excuse ourselves of full responsibility. For the Hebrew people, this inherently would have been a “both/and” situation, because the inner world doesn’t fully exist until realized in the physical world. Only when you can begin to see the fruit growing where we see and taste and touch does that inner understanding or intention finally become real. “Just like the body without breath is dead, faithfulness without action is the same—also dead.”[10]
Now, I want to make sure you aren’t hearing something I’m not saying. I realize not everyone may be able to translate their commitment to God into overt physical action. And if I can understand that, then God most certainly does. However, if you find yourself in that situation, don’t cut yourself short; there are plenty of actions we participate in every day, even if we might not realize it. We can pray. We can show gratitude to God—offering “our sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving” each day. We can be kind and thankful to anyone who may be helping us. We can offer whatever good we have when someone comes to visit or expose the beauty of our inner world through conversation, providing others with hope and joy. Simple as any of those may sound, each embodies our love for God and the life of Christ moving within us. You could be confined to a completely stationary state while still revealing God’s Kingdom. So please don’t worry about what you can’t do; simply do and rejoice in the good that you can.
The Reign of the Heavens isn’t just thought or a theological exercise, nor does it simply exist in our heads. It’s as real as the person sitting beside, behind, or in front of you. It’s present around us and revealed among us as we serve and care for one another. Following the Christian path—living out this truth of the Gospel—may not always be easy. But it also isn’t nearly as difficult as we sometimes make it out to be—particularly when we’re trying to find an excuse to avoid acting on it. “This commandment…is not too hard for you, nor is it too far away. It is not in heaven, that you should say, ‘Who will go up to heaven for us, and get it for us so that we may hear it and observe it?’ Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, ‘Who will cross to the other side of the sea for us, and get it for us so that we may hear it and observe it?’ No, the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart for you to observe.”[11] The reality is there. All we need to do is step beyond our mental barriers and follow our Savior’s instruction to:
“Go and do…”
[1] All Bible quotations are from the NRSV unless otherwise noted.
[2] Luke 10:29b
[3] Luke 6:43a
[4] This is agape—“love as action.”
[5] Luke 10:27
[6] Luke 10:28
[7] Colossians 1:9b
[8] Colossians 1:10
[9] Deuteronomy 30:9b-10
[10] James 2:26 | my translation
[11] Deuteronomy 30:11-14