Missions Catalyst

By Shane Bennett

John Wesley, a personal hero of mine, famously said, “I look upon all the world as my parish; thus far I mean, that in whatever part of it I am, I judge it meet, right, and my bounden duty to declare unto all that are willing to hear the glad tidings of salvation.”

I enjoy the contrast of Wesley’s generous sentiment to the apparent caution of the expert in the law whose question to Jesus prompted Luke’s account of the parable of the Good Samaritan. Having established that the greatest commandment was loving God, followed by loving neighbors, he pressed to see who all might be included in the “neighbor” designation.

The lawyer asked how to be a good Jew. Jesus told him to be like a good Samaritan! Show mercy to those who need mercy.

I love this story more every time I circle back around to it. It has power over millennia and lessons for us in these crazy days. If you have a moment, read it again, then consider these three observations and one question.

1. Jesus nails the first response.

The lawyer opens the chess match with, “Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus could have pulled out a copy of the Four Spiritual Laws, shown him the Romans Road, or maybe drawn the Bridge Diagram in the dirt for the guy. Instead, he responds with, “What is written in the Law? “How do you read it?”

This is such a good challenge for us in these days of information whirlwind, fake news, and deeply held but biblically suspect ideology.

When we feel strongly on an issue, let’s ask ourselves, “What is written? How do you read it?” and then ask the same question, kindly and carefully, of fellow believers, concerning the issues of the day.

Let me be clear: I’m not accusing you of “biblically suspect ideology.” I’m confessing that some of my thinking might be unbiblical—and inviting us all to consider that it could be true of any of us.

2. Jesus sticks the landing.

Jesus ends the brief episode with a question: “Who of the three was neighborly?” Then when the lawyer bravely stated the obvious and correct answer, Jesus said, “Go and do likewise.” So simple, so brilliant. And so important for us today.

Knowing what Jesus says is valuable. Doing what he says, however, is the main payoff. Jesus wraps up the Sermon on the Mount with the “house on the rock, house on the sand” illustration. If you hear and do what God says, you survive calamity. I so long to be one who both hears and does what is right. I’ve racked up way too many points in the know column relative to the points in the do column.

After reading the Sermon on the Mount, I’m particularly challenged to go after the warm, godly characteristics of “peacemaker,” “salt,” and “light.” Want to join me? Perhaps show the way?

3. A bad guy is the good guy.

Ah, to be a storyteller like Jesus. He knew his culture so well. He had the right measure of boldness, cheekiness, and sport. If he told the Good Samaritan story in your church come Sunday morning, who would be the good guy? A Mormon? A Muslim? An American? A transgendered, illegal alien? The deacon’s daughter who went to college, left the church, and got all liberal?

Jesus has a way of cutting to the chase, doesn’t he? Of raising a mirror to show us our moral prejudice and our grace parameters.

At the same time, by choosing a bad guy Samaritan to be the good guy in his story, Jesus is telling us this: I’m down for using you to do my kingdom work. If a Samaritan is fair game to show a Jewish lawyer how to act, then you’re not too dumb, too old or young, too short on the raw material, too privileged or underprivileged, too red, blue, rural, urban, or weird. Your checkered past doesn’t stop him. God delights to use you.

Last night I met a farmer from the middle of nowhere, Idaho, who retired, took his wife’s hand, and moved to the Middle East for several years to love Muslims. It may be a side note in the story, but don’t miss it: Kingdom work is open to pretty much anyone willing to take a detour, drop some coin, and get their donkey dirty.

4. How do you love like a Samaritan?

Jesus told his tester, “Go and do likewise.” Be a good neighbor. Act the way the Samaritan did. God knows there are plenty of people right now who feel like the universe has conspired to beat the tar out of them, take their stuff, and leave them for dead.

Maybe you share that sentiment. You feel like you’re on a playground merry-go-round, barely keeping your grip as it spins. Then a big kid comes along and gives it another push. Maybe you feel like the US election and subsequent events have yanked the rug out from under you. Perhaps the pandemic, the school closures, or the economic stress has you hanging by a thread.

I’d be honored to come alongside you in prayer. I suspect I can relate to some though certainly not all of what you’re facing. Tell me how I can pray. If the Holy Spirit’s nudging you put the words of Jesus into action, to act like a good Samaritan, here are three things to consider.

Look.

Odds are good you won’t see a robbed, beaten, left-for-dead dude on your way home from work today. But you may pass someone in the hallway at church who’s on the ropes. The person in front of you at the grocery may be only barely holding their stuff together. And if we dare to consider it, there are whole nations of Muslims, Hindus, and Buddhists reeling under the assault of the virus with no one even whispering, “Jesus is for you.”

There are times when I don’t want to look around. Like a priest or Levite, I want to lower my head, avert my gaze, slide on over to the “enjoy my life” side of the road and let the rest of the world be. But Jesus calls me, us, to look.

Will you consider with me, to whom is he asking you to be a neighbor this week?

Listen.

Jesus could have directly responded to the lawyer’s question. He certainly knew the answer! Maybe his response was more than Semitic pedagogy. Maybe Jesus wanted to let the guy talk. I know that today we show care for people when doing that. David Augsberger says, “Being heard is so close to being loved that, for the average person, they are almost indistinguishable.”

It feels empowering to yell. Cathartic to confront. It may feel imperative to get your take on the table. But it’s safer to listen. And there are people around you who need to be heard today. Simply holding your tongue and taking the time to nod your head and say, “Go on…” could mean so much.

To whom might the Holy Spirit be prompting you to listen today, this week?

Love.

Finally, we act as a good neighbor by loving people who need it, those whom God puts alongside our path.

Let’s be honest: Loving costs. It costs time and money and involves taking a risk. If we choose to love, we might have to trade in being right, at least temporarily.

In a deep way, I want the Church to be known these days for its love. If that’s going to happen, it probably needs to happen first in me and you. Jesus’s life and death show us the way. May God empower, encourage, and release us to “Go and do likewise.”

Who might God be asking you to love in a fresh way this week?

Grace to you as you do so.