Tag Archives: Good Samaritan

Preaching, Sermons

Broken Open to Mercy (OR The Good Samaritan and the Intimacy of Wound Care) Luke 10:25-37

 

Pastor Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on July 10, 2022

[sermon begins after the Bible reading]

Luke 10:25-37  Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he said, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” 26He said to him, “What is written in the law? What do you read there?” 27He answered, “You shall love 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.” 28And he said to him, “You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.”
29But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” 30Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. 31Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. 32So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. 33But a Samaritan while traveling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. 34He went to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. 35The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, ‘Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.’ 36Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” 37He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”

[sermon begins]

The Good Samaritan has been on my mind these past few weeks. Little bits of the parable would bubble up, capture my imagination for a few minutes, and then fade away when something more pressing took his place. Jesus’ parable isn’t limited only to my imagination. His story that defines a neighbor lives large in public record too. It’s one of those stories that people know even if they don’t know the Bible. There are Good Samaritan laws in the U.S. and around the world that legally protect people who give emergency help. And there are hospitals named after the Good Samaritan. It’s in hospitals that I learned a lot about wounds. When I was a 19-year-old nursing student, I did a rotation through the burn unit at Los Angeles County Hospital.[1] For those of you who’ve been in Denver a long time, think Denver Health but on a massive scale – 1,680 beds, 20 stories, Art Deco style, a regional medical center caring for the poorest of the poor while also boasting a world class teaching program and a Level 1 Trauma Center. To my 19-year-old eyes, the burn unit was overwhelming. Patients were all ages, in pain, scared, and wounded. Two of the patients are seared into my memory even today. While I was there, I learned that there was no way that I could ever do what those burn nurses do daily. I also learned a lot about wounds.

Skin is a barrier that we don’t really think about until it’s breached. Wounds are a breach. Large, multiple wounds are deadly. Especially deadly in antiquity with no access to antibiotics. Those of us who have had such a wound or have cared for such wounds know that each injury is unique and so is the care. Personal care of wounds cannot be outsourced. People are needed to care for people. Wound care is intimate. The barrier of skin no longer exists. The wounds of the stranger on the side of the road captured my imagination as much as the Samaritan. Robbed and beaten, laid flat on the roadside, he needed personal care to live another day. The Samaritan stayed on the same side of the road, close enough to be emotionally moved by the wounded man. Emotionally moved to get involved in his care. Kneeling in the dust to clean his wounds, pouring oil and wine on them to flush them out and seal them before bandaging them, the Samaritan used what he had and did what he could. Crossing barriers of all kinds to do so.

A few verses before the Samaritan story, Jesus followers were wondering if they should rain fire down on a Samaritan for not receiving Jesus.[2] Jesus rebuked James and John for the ridiculous plan but the story reveals conflict and hostility. A few verses later, Jesus tells the parable of the Good Samaritan. Jesus goes the extra mile in redeeming the Samaritans by spotlighting their humanity in the one he calls a neighbor, the one whose broken heart bleeds mercy. The lawyer tries to justify himself in the eyes of God by asking Jesus, “Who is my neighbor?” The short answer is that your neighbor is the very one that you think would be better off dead. The longer answer is that your neighbor is the very one you have something to learn from when you think they aren’t worth saving. We don’t know if the wounded man was good or bad, worthy of the tender loving care, time, and money given by the Samaritan. Worthiness isn’t part of the parable. Mercy between strangers in the form of wound care is a part of the parable.

Woundedness looks different for different people – physical, emotional, spiritual, and financial. The wounds of our neighbor can be easy to miss or ignore. This summer, our Compassion and Action with our Neighbors ministry invites us into a Summer of Service. CAN Ministry has opportunities for volunteering with our local ministry partners like Habitat for Humanity Metro Denver and Metro Caring. No prior experience necessary. The invitation also includes filling out the worship slips to track our volunteer hours beyond the congregation in the wider community. CAN Ministry hopes to better understand the variety of volunteering and neighboring organizations that our congregation works with at the individual level. The number of hours given to a variety of organizations and individuals are already interesting. Please keep filling out those slips either online or at worship on Sunday.

Just like not everyone is cut out to be a nurse in a burn unit, not everyone is cut out for every act of service. Likewise, we have different capacities for service during different seasons of our lives. Regardless, the capacity for neighborliness emerges out of the grace and love God gives us which frees us to love and serve our neighbor without any need to justify ourselves. The lawyer in the parable attempted to justify himself, meaning that he was attempting to make himself right with God. Lutheran Christianity became a thing over 500 years ago because there was clarity that the only thing that makes us right with God is God. We don’t build our way to God by being good or by being loving neighbors. We are freed by God to love our neighbor because we don’t need to make ourselves right with God. This is a tough concept.

It’s amazing to me when faithful, wonderful people in the church agonize over whether they’ve been good enough to meet God. God doesn’t meet us because we’re good. God meets us because God is good. Again, a tough concept for our minds that are laser-focused on merit and worthiness. Even dear Mr. Rogers of 31 seasons and over 900 episodes of television fame[3]…Mr. Rogers the ordained minister who sang, told stories, and listened to neighbors…even Mr. Rogers struggled with the idea of worthiness when he asked his wife towards the end of his life if he was good enough. We can put this question to rest. No one can justify themselves before God. Not the lawyer in the parable. Not Mr. Rogers. And not us. We are justified by God’s grace alone through the love of Jesus, love revealed in his earthly ministry and love ultimately revealed through self-sacrifice in cross-born wounds.

And just like that, we’re back to wounds. From the shadow of the cross, beneath the wounded feet of Jesus, we take baby steps as we try to love our neighbor. The Samaritan is an example of advanced neighborliness. He stopped in the road and tended wounds at great cost to himself in time and money. Where others saw a barrier, the Samaritan saw mercy through his broken heart. The invitation today is to take a baby step. Perhaps we could think of a baby step like the difference between washing a small cut and applying a Band-Aid versus applying a full moisture-retentive dressing.

Some of us are worshipping today with deep emotional or spiritual wounds and barely healed scars that still need tending. If that is you, allowing someone else to be your neighbor, to show you mercy, to care for your wounds and help you heal, may be the baby step that you need to take. Some of us know a thing or two about vulnerability, allowing someone to cross through our barriers when we desperately needed hope and healing. It can be difficult to accept that you need help and to ask for the help you need. Consider that the Samaritan wouldn’t be famous without the wounded man. There are times when our wounds are too big to tend ourselves. The story about the Samaritan is one of connection through suffering. We more clearly see each other as fellow humans on a shared journey when the things that we think are important are stripped away, knowing that the next person who needs help could be ourselves. Thanks be to God and amen.

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[1] Hospital Operations have since been relocated into adjacent buildings with updated earthquake safety standards required for hospitals. The Hospital is currently known as LA County+USC Medical Center. https://www.laconservancy.org/locations/los-angeles-countyusc-medical-center

[2] Luke 9:51-56

[3] https://www.refinery29.com/en-us/2019/11/8850958/what-happened-to-mr-rogers-after-show-ended

Sermons

Keshia Thomas, Anthony Ray Hinton, and You [OR Imago Dei, Real Image-of-God Type Stuff and The Good Samaritan] Luke 10:25-37

**photo credit: Keshia Thomas, 18 years old, by Mark Brunner (1996)

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on July 14, 2019

[sermon begins after the Bible reading]

Luke 10:25-37  Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he said, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” 26 He said to him, “What is written in the law? What do you read there?” 27 He answered, “You shall love 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.” 28 And he said to him, “You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.” 29 But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” 30 Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. 31 Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. 32 So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. 33 But a Samaritan while traveling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. 34 He went to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. 35 The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, “Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.’ 36 Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” 37 He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”

[sermon begins]

Anthony Ray Hinton went to prison for a crime that he did not commit and sat on death row for 30 years. When he first went to prison, he was so angry and tired of not being believed that he stopped talking.  He wrote down his answers to the guards’ questions.  Going into his fourth year in prison, he heard a man crying in the cell next to his.  Mr. Hinton says that his mother’s compassion moved him to speak. Before long he was joking with the man.  After that night, Mr. Hinton spent the next 26 years trying to focus on other people’s problems.  He said he realized that the other inmates had not had the unconditional love that his mother had given him.  Family was created between the inmates.  54 people walked down the hallway by his cell on their way to be executed.  Mr. Hinton started the ritual with the other inmates to bang on the bars 5 minutes before the execution, letting them know that love walked with them.  Stories like Mr. Hinton’s are often lifted up as examples of the resiliency of the human spirit.  Very few of us will ever be put in a situation as dire as his to know how we would respond.  Regardless, his story has elements worth considering.  He was in a place of despair, angry and alone.  He was facing death.  But, he found meaning in sharing love and compassion that he himself had received from his mother.[1]

Mr. Hinton sharing compassion he himself received is why his story resonates with today’s Bible reading.  Verse 33 tells us that the Samaritan saw the naked, beaten, half-dead man on the side of the road and was “moved with pity.” This word “pity” is from a Greek word that is also translated as compassion elsewhere in Luke.  Luke uses this word only three times in the Gospel.[2]  In the gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke it’s used 12 times and used specifically to either describe Jesus’ compassion or used by Jesus in parables to describe a major characters’ response.[3]  You may be asking why this translation gem gets a shout out.  It’s because this kind of compassion as it shows up in the gospels is quite specific.  More than a moral claim, one could say it’s almost holy.  One could even say it’s divine.  But if it’s divine, isn’t it out of reach for the common person?  I’m going to say no, it’s not.

In our tradition, we understand ourselves to be created in the image of God.[4]  Imago dei. Our humanity imprinted by God. One of the reasons we worship weekly is to remind ourselves of what we are and to whom we belong.  When we are reminded of what we are in the story of the Good Samaritan, we hear the parable in its rightful place.  Not as a moral action for the to-do list, rather as a divine reaction inspiring us across the road like the Samaritan.  Our bodies are created by divine compassion and also for divine compassion.  When we act compassionately, endorphins are released in our brains making us feel good.  When we act compassionately, the hormone oxytocin is released.  Oxytocin has health benefits like reducing inflammation in our hearts and circulatory systems.[5]  Additionally, compassion is contagious.  Social scientists have found that there’s a ripple effect.  If you are kind and compassionate, your friends, your friends’ friends, and your friends’ friends’ friends have a greater inclination towards compassion.  Our bodies’ systems are wired to react positively to compassion and our community systems are wired to react positively to compassion.  This is one of those moments when faith and science come together like the thumb and index finger – between them we can grasp so much.

In the parable, Jesus reveals the compassion of the neighbor, the compassion that Jesus first and foremost reveals in himself as his own compassion is stirred by the people around him and ultimately his own compassion poured out at the cross.  Jesus’ compassion that is highlighted by Luke in Jesus himself and in the parables about Jesus is compassion stirred by death.  Compassion stirred by the death of the widow of Nain’s son in chapter 7, by the man left half-dead at the side of the road in the parable of the Good Samaritan, and by the prodigal son showing up after he was assumed dead.  In each of these instances, the compassion of Jesus transforms the ones who are dead, half-dead, or assumed dead.   We could say that the compassion of Jesus, the deathless one, draws him toward death because there is nothing left to fear.

I had a seminary professor who tapped his clergy collar during class and said that the collar would take us boldly into situations where no one else would dare to go. It was a daunting thing to hear.  In hindsight, that seems toplofty to me.  Instead, I would say that it is our baptism that takes us boldly into situations where no one else dares to go.  Our baptism that brings us alive together with Christ, aligning us with the image of God in ourselves and in other people.

Mr. Hinton was released from prison in 2015 after his case was picked up by the Equal Justice Initiative and it was discovered that the evidence against him did not match the crime scene evidence.[6]  His 30 years in prison transformed the experience for himself and the people around him.  First, his mother’s unconditional love and compassion touched his mind and then he was able share it with those around him.  The lawyer questioning Jesus gives the right answer about the law, the Torah – love God and love neighbor as self.  These are the main things, and Jesus agrees with him.  The parable of the Good Samaritan highlights the main things in a way that speaks to us because we’ve see the hesitation of the priest and the Levite rear up in ourselves when confronted by difference and need.  Perhaps the hesitation to cross the road has good logic.  On the other hand, perhaps it’s flawed logic that is primarily fear settling in for an extended stay.

Experiencing compassion ourselves might make us more inclined to cross the road in compassion. Even witnessing acts of compassion makes us more inclined to cross the road in compassion – especially across difference as the Samaritan did.  There’s an image that often comes to mind as an example.  Keshia Thomas was a young black teenage woman protecting a white supremacist middle-aged man from being beaten at a protest.[7]  She’s kneeling on the ground next to him, arms thrown out over him, ready to take the blows herself.  Turns out she’d be on the receiving end of violence in her young life and wishes someone had stood up for her.  She says her faith also played a part in protecting him. The man’s son approached her a few months later and thanked her.  The man remains anonymous.  Both the photographer, Mark Brunner, and another woman, Teri Gunderson, report that Keshia’s action affects them even today.  Ms. Gunderson keeps the picture of Keisha on her wall.

Keshia Thomas and Anthony Ray Hinton are compelling modern examples of compassion.  I would argue that they are contagious examples of compassion inspiring us to cross that road of difference and stare death in the eye like the Samaritan did.  Inspiring us to the compassion that is also in us as the image of God empowered by our baptism into the death and life of Jesus.  Remember that the compassion extended by Jesus includes you too.  Because we’re linear creatures it can be difficult to see love of God, neighbor, and self as all three of those things happening at once.  We’re tempted to say that we have to love ourselves before we can love our neighbor.  Or we have to love God before we can rightly understand love of self.  The actual experience is messier – more like football than baseball if you’ll allow the sports analogy.  A lot is happening at once.  Here’s one suggestion to begin breaking it down.  Take your worship bulletin home this week. Fold it open to this Bible reading. Take a couple minutes to read it as you start your day.  Wonder about it. Ask questions of it.  Pray over it.  Let it remind you.

Crossing the road in compassion breaks the cycle of shame and judgment that we inflict on ourselves and other people.  However compassion comes to you and through you, for today, know that the savior who claims us crosses the road into whatever ditch you currently find yourself in, pulls you out, tends your wounds, and reminds you who you are and to whom you belong.  Alleluia and amen.

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[1] Anthony Ray Hinton’s story can easily be found on any web search.  I encountered his story in the following:

Dalai Lama, Desmond Tutu, and Douglas Abrams. The Book of Joy: Lasting Happiness in a Changing World. (New York: Avery, 2016), 261-262.  Mr. Hinton tells his own story in The Sun Does Shine: How I Found Life and Freedom on Death Row (2018).  It’s now on my list of books to read.

[2] Luke 7:13 – Jesus was moved with compassion for the widow of Nain and her dead son; Luke 15:20 – the prodigal son’s father is moved with compassion when he see that his son has returned.

[3] Girardian Lectionary (Proper 10, Year C, Ordinary 15) on Luke 10:25-37, Exegetical Note #5 re Luke 10:33 (2013).

[4] Genesis 1:26-27

[5] The Book of Joy, 258.

[6] EJI. “Anthony Ray Hinton Exonerated After 30 Years on Death Row.” https://eji.org/anthony-ray-hinton-exonerated-from-alabama-death-row

[7] Catherine Wynne. “The teenager who saved the man with the SS tattoo.” BBC News Online on October 29, 2013. https://www.bbc.com/news/magazine-24653643

Sermons

Luke 10:38-42 “Taste of Forever”

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Luke 10:38-42 “Taste of Forever”

July 19, 2013 – Caitlin Trussell

New Beginnings Church at the Denver Women’s Correctional Facility, Denver, CO

SIT AT YOUR FEET – Oil on Board

Bryn Gillette (artbybryn.com)

Used with permission.

Luke 10:38-42 Now as they went on their way, he entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. 39 She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying. 40 But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me.” 41 But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; 42 there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.”

 

Here’s how I’m afraid most of us hear the Martha story: “Hey, people, stop all that inconsequential doing, sit down and focus on Jesus!!!   You are delusional in the way you think about what’s important for survival and the things that you’re doing are useless!!!!!” [I use multiple exclamation points so you readers hear this in a very loud, stern voice].

Now, is it possible that we focus on some things that might be unnecessary?  Probably.   But I don’t think that this is what the text is challenging us toward.  And I don’t think this is the good news in this text.  After all, the story of the Good Samaritan, just before this one today, finds Jesus telling the lawyer to “Go and do likewise” after the example of the Good Samaritan.  The act of doing is simply not the problem.  We are commanded by scripture to do all kinds of things that show love for neighbor and love for ourselves.

So if doing is not the problem then what is the problem in this story?  Part of the problem seems to be Martha’s concern about what Mary is doing, or not doing, and trying to bring Jesus on her side against Mary.  This is a common human action that actually does create problems among us and against each other.  After all, if I can get Jesus on my side, then my side automatically puts me on the right side, and I can feel oh so much better about what I’m doing for and with Jesus.

So if Jesus is not invalidating Martha’s work, not siding against her, and is also not siding with her, then what is he doing?  Here’s where the story of Martha and Mary gets interesting.  Mary is sitting at Jesus’ feet.  This is a student’s posture, a posture of one who is learning and listening to someone who has something important to teach.  This posture is reverent and focused and ready to receive.  In the first century, this posture was one reserved for students in the temple, traditionally male students.  So this posture, taken by Mary as she listens to Jesus, would be seen by first century people as radical.  But this story is so much more than simply one that breaks down the gender norms of its day or even our day.

In verse 42, Jesus says that Mary’s experience of receiving what Jesus has given her “will not be taken away from her.”  What Jesus gives her “will not be taken away from her…”   All well and good for Mary, but what might this mean for us who live now, worried and distracted by many things today?  It means that those who sit at Jesus’ feet are being given something eternal in the here and now.  If something can never be taken away and is given here, now, today, then it is indeed a taste of forever here and now.  

Did you notice that there is no “if” in our text today?  What Jesus gives, what Mary receives, is for always.  There is no contingent clause that sounds like Mary will only keep what’s been given to her if she performs a certain set of actions.  This means that:

When Jesus comes to you in the proclamation of forgiveness by the power of the Holy Spirit , He will not be taken away from you.

When Jesus comes to you by the power of the Holy Spirit in the waters of baptism by the power of the Holy, He will not be taken away from you.

When Jesus comes to you in bread and in wine by the power of the Holy Spirit, He will not be taken away from you.

Jesus remains with you today, tomorrow and forever…and you with him…which will not be taken away from you.

Thanks be to God!