The 6th Sunday
after Pentecost
July 11, 2004
“He that is down needs fear
no fall,
He that is low, no pride;
He that is humble ever shall
Have God to be his guide.”
John Bunyan (1628-1688)
From the lesson from
Deuteronomy: “Moses said to the people
of Israel, . . . for the Lord will again take delight in prospering you, as he
took delight in your fathers, if you obey the voice of the Lord your God, to
keep his commandments which are written in this book of the law, if you turn to
the Lord your God, with all your heart and with all your soul. For this commandment which I command you
this day is not too hard for you, neither is it far off.”
From the Gospel: “You shall love the Lord your God with all
your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all of
your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.”
. . . But he, desiring to justify himself, said to Jesus, “And who is my
neighbor?”
I find the juxtaposition of
these lessons to be fascinating. I
often wonder if a devil was guiding those who put the lectionary together. Did they say, now let us hear them preach on
that! It is fairly easy if we ignore
the Old Testament lesson and preach only from the Gospel. If we put the Gospel in the context of the
lesson from Deuteronomy, it becomes more complicated. The reason is that the commandment “You shall love the Lord your
God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength,
and with all of your mind” is from that book of law which Moses has said is not
too hard for you, neither is it too far off.
Somehow, I find the commandment to love God with all of my heart, soul,
strength and mind to be difficult and to be far enough away that I wonder if I
will ever achieve it in this life.
Yet it is this very tension
that I want to explore for I find in it a guide to moving closer to loving God,
self and neighbor.
In preaching before, I have
commented that it is important to take seriously all of the scripture for words
that can seem rather unimportant can be very telling in understanding fully a
passage. The words “But he, desiring to
justify himself” are just such words.
He needed to justify
himself. He needed to prove that he was
smart, that he was good at what he did, that he mattered. I am amazed as to how often we all do
that. I walk away from many
conversations with people wondering what I was doing. Where was I coming from, for I realize that a lot of what I said
was about trying to justify myself, to say I am important – love me, respect
me. On occasion, I have noticed similar
traits in others.
I do not think that the man
was an evil man. I will not set him up
as a straw man to batter. Yes, he came
to test Jesus, but when Jesus turned the question back to him, he got the
answer right. There was nothing about
ritual purity or the thousands of detailed laws. He went to the heart of the manner. When, after the parable, Jesus asked him who had been neighbor,
he did not try to squirm out of it. He
gave the right answer immediately.
But he needed to justify
himself and that need points to a serious problem in the relationship between
God, self and neighbor. If we believe
the Bible, from God’s perspective,
the relationship is love. To God, that
means that he, that you and I are precious.
You are beloved. He is
beloved. But we miss that point. God cannot possibly really love me. I must prove myself. I must satisfy the great parent in the
sky. I must satisfy my own ego and its
demands on me. And if I must, so must
the neighbor.
I find it a problem for me
that none of our confessions in the Prayer
Book include the confession that we have not loved ourselves. If we truly know God and God’s love for us,
we will love ourselves and not need to justify ourselves. As I observe people, I often think that one
of the world’s greatest problems is that we do love our neighbors as
ourselves. The results are truly tragic
and often evil. To love ourselves apart
from the love of God is to need to justify ourselves, to build up ourselves,
our roles, our jobs our skills, our gifts.
It demands that we put our selves above others. But it is a fragile love. In fact, it is not love at all, but it is fear,
insecurity, and self hate masquerading as love. If I must justify myself, I can never be truly open either to myself,
my neighbor or God.
The world worships this kind
of love. The media sell it. Bosses, organizations, corporations,
families, schools all sell it This
kind of love makes us so vulnerable, so easy to manipulate, so controllable.
I could go on in this vane
about self justification and self justifying love, but I would soon be totally
away from our texts.
But he, desiring to justify
himself asked “who is my neighbor?”
If he can carefully define
the neighbor, he has also defined himself and stayed in control (or so he hopes
and thinks). If God defines neighbor
and self, neither he nor we are any longer in control.
This story is about both the
victim and the helper. To whom will we
give help? By what criteria do we
define the other? Race, beauty,
political position, wealth, poverty, intelligence, athletic skill, religious
belief, nationality and many, many other criteria have been used to exclude the
other as neighbor and to deny them help and love.
Likewise, I am amazed as to the
criteria used to exclude those from whom we do not want to receive help. He is a low down, scum-sucking, crooked
Samaritan. I do not want him coming
close to me. I have seen people willing
to lose health, wreck marriages, bankrupt businesses, etc. rather than accept
help from some people. In many cases,
the criteria used to exclude the help had nothing to do with the ability to
help but with prejudices that were a means of justifying themselves.
The Kingdom of God calls us
to open ourselves to God and God’s love.
It calls us to truly love ourselves and our neighbor because both we and
they are precious, beloved of God – so much so that God gave his only Son that
we might know that love.
This brings us back to the
quote from John Bunyan. True love comes
not from building oneself up and justifying oneself. True love comes from a humility that lets us rest at peace in
God’s love and to know the sweetness of it.
When this happens, the one in need and the one in joy becomes our
neighbor.
I apologize for going back to
Francis again. I know you are probably
getting tired of hearing about him, but he is the one I have been occupied with
for most of the last thirty years. He
is the saint that I know best.
The story comes from the long
period of his conversion, and as he saw it, was hinge of that conversion.
Prior to the time of this
incident, Francis, like nearly everyone in Europe was terrified of lepers and,
to a great extent, held them in contempt.
They were diseased and disfigured.
They were forced to beg, were generally clothed in rags (not like the
beautiful clothes he wore), and they were forced out the towns into awful
living places. They disgusted him. When he was out riding in the fields below
Assisi, if he saw one coming, he not only would go by them, but he often rode
clear around the field so as not to have to encounter them. Then one day, as he was beginning to open to
God, the wealthy, well dressed, social elite of Assisi did something different
when he saw a leper coming toward him and begging. He did not ride around the field, he did not continue on by the
man. Instead, he got off of his horse,
gave the man alms and then he embraced him and kissed him. When Francis was riding off, he looked back
and saw no one. He was convinced that
he had kissed Christ. For the first
time, he witnessed, that he was truly filled with the sweetness and fullness of
God’s love.
The Rev. William O. Breedlove
II
St. Barnabas Episcopal
Church, Monmouth Junction, NJ