Luke 10:25-37

Just then, a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he said, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus said to him, “What is written in the law? What do you read there?” He answered him, “You should love the Lord your God with all your heart, and all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” Jesus said to him, “You have given the right answer. Do this and you shall live.”

But wanting to justify himself, the man asked him, “And who is my neighbor?” Jesus answered him, “A man was going down the road from Jerusalem to Jericho when he fell into the hands of robbers who beat him, stripped him, leaving him half dead. Now, by chance a priest was walking along the same road and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. So likewise, a Levite, when he came to the place, saw the man and passed by on the other side.

But a Samaritan, while traveling saw the man and was moved with pity. He came near to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. He put him onto his own animal and took him to an inn to take care of him. The next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the inn keeper and said, ‘Take care of him and when I come back I will repay you whatever more you spend.’”

Jesus said to the lawyer, “Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers.” He answered him, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”

Our questioner for this morning wasn’t specific, so I’m taking some guesses and some liberty at choosing what they could have meant by “When the system falls short…” – and how a Christian might respond. By that I mean, “SYSTEM” could mean lots of things. When I think “SYSTEM,” I think POLITICAL system, JUSTICE system, HEALTHCARE system, EDUCATION system, the ECONOMY, and so on.

So, maybe our question refers to the ECONOMY that allows corporate CEOs to make 300 times as much as their average employees who then have to worry about the price of eggs or milk or gas or rent. (The economic system is falling short for a lot of people these days. How does a Christian respond?)

Maybe our IMMIGRATION system was on the mind of whoever asked today’s question. Its shortcomings are something both sides of the political aisle actually agree about, after all. (That system and the current methods of remedy are a profound failure of human decency, respect, integrity, and moral character, if you ask me. What does a faithful Christian response look like there?)

I contend that our JUSTICE system falls short every time a Black, brown, or poor person receives a harsher, longer punishment than a white or wealthy person for the same – or lesser – crime. (The justice system is shamefully, painfully failing a whole lot of people. What’s a believer to do?)

And the SYSTEM, writ large, falls short when it chooses to fund the resulting prison industrial complex and a raging war machine rather than provide food, healthcare, and housing for its people. (For people who worship the “Prince of Peace,” the “Healer of Every Ill,” the One who calls us to feed the sick, clothe the naked, turn the other cheek, and forgive our enemy – we have to wonder “What would Jesus do?”)

The SYSTEM is falling short when hospitals, major corporations, private schools, and public schools are bullied into denying, dismantling, or defunding their diversity, equity, and inclusion efforts. (For generations of Christians who grew up singing “Red and Yellow, Black and White, they are precious in his sight” how does our faith call us to respond?)

So, again … the question of the day … What do we do when the system – or any of the systems within the system – fall short? When they don’t live up to our expectations or needs? When they downright fail? What’s a Christian to do? What does a faithful response look like, indeed?

Good question.

Before you ask me, though, I’d ask Shane Claiborne. He’s a faithful Christian activist who does crazy, beautiful things like turns guns into gardening tools – you’ve heard me talk of him before. Shane Claiborne once broke a very particular law, several years ago, in Philadelphia, which had made it illegal to feed homeless people, outdoors, in public spaces. So, in addition to pizza, he served them Holy Communion – all of which got him arrested calling attention to the broken, inhumane, unloving, mean-spirited law the courts ultimately declared unjust and unfair, thanks to his clever act of civil, faithful disobedience.

And before you ask me this question, I’d look to Pastor Martin Luther King, Jr., who protested and broke the racist Jim Crow laws of the South to march, boycott, host sit-ins and to teach, preach, and promote God’s Gospel of diversity, equity and inclusion – showing the world that those are not dirty words and worthless endeavors.

Before you ask me this question, I’d look to Lutheran pastor and theologian, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who preached and taught and wrote about The Cost of Discipleship and was executed for fighting against the moral, ethical, evil failures of the Nazis, during World War II. I’d wonder about Cesar Chavez who fought for fair wages, safe working conditions, and decent standards of living for migrant and agricultural workers in our country. I’d remember Mother Teresa who gave up everything to care for the poorest of the poor that every system of healthcare, education, and human compassion had failed.

Each of these faithful Christian people responded to the broken, failing systems they witnessed in ways that were informed and inspired by the teachings of Jesus. And each of them, surely, was informed and inspired the Good Samaritan – this outsider who saw the suffering of a stranger, recognized him as a neighbor, crossed the road, broke some rules, risked his own safety, and gave up a full measure of his time and money to help, as nothing more and nothing less than an act of compassion and mercy.

In some ways, the answer to today’s question is as simple as that – When the system falls short, faithful action looks like seeing everyone as your neighbor and showing them mercy, as a result.

But the truth is, we like to pretend – you and I – that we don’t have courage or occasion enough of the time to encounter the suffering, dying, needs of our neighbor in as dramatic a fashion as Martin Luther King, Jr., Cesar Chavez, Mother Theresa, or that Good Samaritan in Jesus’ story. And maybe that’s true. Maybe we don’t have courage or occasion enough to respond like that.

But since you asked, I’ll tell you what I’ve done, what I try to do, and what I hope for around here – as your pastor; as your Partner in Mission; and as a wannabe follower of Jesus. Because I believe my response – and ours together in this place – to the short-falls of the systems that surround us show up in lots of ways. We have a unique calling in this community, in this political climate, at this particular time – as fellow wannabe followers of Jesus – to do something about the systemic shortfalls that threaten us and that harm our neighbors.

The easiest thing I do is that I say a lot of words. I do my best to preach and teach about a God who loves all people and hope that moves us all to defend, protect, support, welcome, affirm, and love all people, too – on this side of heaven, not just the next, which is key. God’s love and grace are meant to be shared with all people on this side of heaven, not just the next.

Our Groceries of Grace food pantry matters because it helps mitigate the systemic shortfalls of a broken economic system by simply feeding people kindly, compassionately, generously, with dignity – and without a lot of questions or pre-requisites. And hopefully that allows them to spend the grocery money they save on other needs.

Our Racial Justice Team matters because churches are one of the few institutions who haven’t been bullied by the system – yet – into decrying or dropping Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion efforts, and withholding the truth about the ongoing impact of racism on our neighbors. We aren’t perfect, but from what I know, Cross of Grace does that more deliberately and more faithfully than any congregation in Hancock County.

I’m leading that Unclobber book study again (starting this Wednesday at 6:30 p.m.) because no other congregation in our community will do that either; and because not enough churches in our country have evolved to embrace the TRUTH about what the Bible actually says and does not say about homosexuality among God’s people.

I chair the board for Project Rouj, too, because Jesus tells me that my neighbor isn’t just someone who lives next door or who looks and believes and behaves like I do. So I like building houses for my friends and strangers in Fondwa, Haiti.

And, lastly – and not for nothing – when it comes to mitigating the impact of the broken, failing systems that surround us – my family gives our money away, because Jesus tells us to. The Havels give regular, if not monthly, financial contributions to places like Project Rouj, WFYI and NPR, and Susan G. Komen. And all of that is secondary to the more than 10% of our income that we give to the ministry at Cross of Grace, every year too.

(I don’t say this to brag or guilt-trip anyone. I’m just answering the question. And I admit, it’s impressive and tempting to wonder about the swimming pools, nicer cars, college tuition, and second home we could have paid and saved for over the years with that money. And I pray for and dream about the day when more of you believe me when I tell you what a difference that kind of giving could make for you, your family, for the ministry we share, and for this broken world we’re trying to mend.)

All of this is to say that – in the face of the failing systems that surround us – Jesus calls us to follow the Good Samaritan’s lead.

Because let’s remember – without too much despair – that whatever system you think is failing you, or someone you love, or your proverbial neighbor in some way … this is nothing new. Jesus showed up in the world precisely because the systems of this world are insufficient and unequal to the task of loving God’s people in ways that God desires and asks of God’s people.

So God calls us to be here precisely because the system fails, is failing, and will fail again and again and again. We are called to cross the proverbial street to see and hear about the suffering of our neighbor. We are called to look long and hard and deeply at what hurts and harms them, most. We’re called, too, to wonder if we have participated in that somehow.

And then we are called to do something about it, as much as we are able. We find them help. We provide them resources. We take some risks. We give some money. We show mercy.

And when we do, Jesus promises, we get a glimpse of eternal life, right where we live.

Amen

John 1:29-42

The next day he saw Jesus coming toward him and declared, “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world! This is he of whom I said, ‘After me comes a man who ranks ahead of me because he was before me.’ I myself did not know him; but I came baptizing with water for this reason, that he might be revealed to Israel.” And John testified, “I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it remained on him. I myself did not know him, but the one who sent me to baptize with water said to me, ‘He on whom you see the Spirit descend and remain is the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.’ And I myself have seen and have testified that this is the Son of God.”

The next day John again was standing with two of his disciples, and as he watched Jesus walk by, he exclaimed, “Look, here is the Lamb of God!” The two disciples heard him say this, and they followed Jesus. When Jesus turned and saw them following, he said to them, “What are you looking for?” They said to him, “Rabbi” (which translated means Teacher), “where are you staying?” He said to them, “Come and see.” They came and saw where he was staying, and they remained with him that day. It was about four o’clock in the afternoon. One of the two who heard John speak and followed him was Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother. He first found his brother Simon and said to him, “We have found the Messiah” (which is translated Anointed). He brought Simon to Jesus, who looked at him and said, “You are Simon son of John. You are to be called Cephas” (which is translated Peter).

[Upon entering for worship, worshippers were given a card on which to write some way they have been moved or inspired, thanks to their faith, in recent days. I begin by rattling of some of their responses, as well as my own.]

Dave Duff funeral… Steve Beebe’s “O Holy Night”... sharing money from the Pastors' Discretionary Fund to help pay someone's rent...etc.

Thanks for playing along. That’s all great stuff… holy stuff… moving things that remind me of how and why it’s good to be the church around here. And my hunch was correct because what most of you shared was just as telling as what wasn’t.

No one said anything/there wasn’t much about doctrine or dogma or denominations. No one said a word about the abstract rules and self-righteousness that so many Christians fight about out there in the world. No one mentioned anything that had to be thought about or reasoned or rationalized in too many ways – I didn’t ask for an essay, after all. The most meaningful things to most of us are things we have experienced, witnessed, seen, heard, tasted, touched, felt in some real, human way.

And I think this is something like what the disciples of John the Baptist were hungry for – whether they would have explained it that way or not – when they first saw Jesus and started to follow him in this morning’s Gospel. John points them in the right direction, “Look, here is the Lamb of God!” And they follow, because “Lamb of God” for 1st Century Jews meant sacrifice, forgiveness, redemption – and who wouldn’t want to see and get their hands on why John would have ever thought to call Jesus any of those things?

They meet up with Jesus, and they call him Rabbi, which means “teacher,” like maybe they were expecting a lecture or a reading or a sermon or something. But Jesus doesn’t do any of that. He just says, “come and see.” “Come and see.” And so they do.

And, ultimately they saw him heal and forgive and tell great stories. (Even his teachings were experiences, really – parables that painted wonderful pictures about the Kingdom of God, alive in their midst.) They watched him live and move and breathe with and among everyday people, just like they were. They watched him touch lepers and be touched with the oil and tears and hair of a sinful woman. They saw him love others, purely and plainly. They watched him suffer and struggle and sacrifice and die – like a “lamb of God,” after all. And they suffered the sting of that loss as a result. And they felt the joy of his redemption, on the other side the empty tomb, even more.

And all of this changed them, transformed them, and changed the world around them by the grace they learned to receive and to share because of all they experienced. And that’s still God’s hope for us as followers of Jesus: that we would come and see – which so many of us have, based on the simple, holy, profound experiences we can share about our time in this place. And God’s hope is that, once we’ve come and seen, that we will go and show, too, so that others might be changed by the same grace we’ve experienced.

One of my favorite one-liners from Shane Claiborne – a Christian, theologian, activist, worker for justice, author, and whatnot – is something you’ve probably heard me say it before – and I give Claiborne the credit, though I’ve seen it attributed to others, too. Anyway, Shane Claiborne said (at least once), that the Gospel spreads best, not by force, but by fascination. …Not by force but by fascination … when we demonstrate our salvation – not earn it, not explain it, not prove or try to make sense of it, but demonstrate that our salvation already is – with acts of love and grace and mercy; with acts of justice, peace, welcome and hospitality.

And this seems to be just how Jesus operates – and how he calls us to be just the same: to be a disciple, to follow the way, to share the Gospel not by force but by fascination. To put flesh and bones – to give life…our life…our flesh and bones – to the good news and grace we experience from one day to the next.

It’s one thing to stand here in our white robes or fancy clothes, with our hymnals and our bulletins in one hand and our best intentions in the other. It’s another thing altogether, to be loving and forgiving and patient, to be sacrificing and sharing and generous beyond reason, to be tasting and offering up the fullness of God’s kind of grace and mercy with the world.

Whether it’s the bread and wine of communion or the water of Holy Baptism or any of the things you scribbled down to share this morning, the stuff of life and faith that matters most, just has to be experienced and shared to matter. You just have to come and see it – as much as anything – in order to believe it, or buy it, or be changed by it in some way.

This life of faith is meant to be felt – which God proved by showing up in the skin and bones of Jesus. This life of faith is meant to be practiced – not just preached about. This life of faith is meant to be shared through worship, learning and service. This faith matters most – for us and for others – when we come and see it in flesh and blood, through sweat and tears, in laughter and love and when we become it and go and show it to such an extent that others are fascinated by the light our very lives share with – and for – the sake of God’s world.

Amen

Asking for a Friend - When the system falls short, what does faithful action look like?

"Come and See, Go and Show" – John 1:29-42