Saugatuck Congregational Church, UCC
© Rev. Alison J. Buttrick Patton
July 10, 2016
Scripture: Luke 10:25-37
Saugatuck member Vonnie Spies once gave me a ruler-shaped booklet of sayings related to the Golden Rule: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you; love your neighbor as yourself. It’s a reminder that nearly every religion and culture honors some version of this principle:
The Sioux People pray: Great Spirit, grant that I may not criticize my neighbor until I have walked a mile in his moccasins.
The Tao Te Ching says “The sage…makes the self of the people his self.”
A Nigerian Yoruba Proverb says, “One going to take a pointed stick to pinch a baby bird should first try it on himself to feel how it hurts.”
Rabbi Hillel once said, “What is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor; that is the whole Torah; the rest is commentary…”
Why is it so hard, in practice, to embody this basic tenet? Why are we so often inundated by examples of the soul-shattering damage that we inflict on each other? Why does it sometimes feel easier to list off all the personal affronts – all the examples of phobia and bigotry, all the conflicts interpersonal and political, all the moments when people are at their worst (angry or hostile, fearful or arrogant or…) – than it is to find evidence of empathy? Even in Jesus’ parable, the ratio of those who disregard a person in distress to those who stop to help is two to one. That’s 66% who look the other way and keep on walking. And it turns out, that statistic hasn’t changed much in two millennia.
A classic 1973 study by Darley and Batson examined the “Samaritan effect” in Princeton seminary students. An average 60% of the seminarians who were being observed walked right past a person in need, on their way to give a presentation (although that percent varied widely depending on whether or not they had been told that they were late for the presentation, with a full 63% of those NOT in a hurry stopping to help; and only 10% of those who were in a rush stopping. Maybe that’s good news: So long as we are not too busy, too distracted or pressed for time, we might just pause to connect with a stranger… )
Apart from being in a rush, it seems to me that whether we reach out to someone most often comes down to that pesky question that the lawyer asked: “Who IS my neighbor?” What kind of person will most likely cause me to stop in my tracks? There’s the lovely old woman next door, who always sits out on the porch in her rocking chair and keeps an eye on all the neighborhood children. There’s Joe, over the fence, who lent me a cup of sugar once, and who plows our driveway every winter, just to be nice. There’s the person who sits next to me in church, whose kids grew up with my kids; Mr. Donovan, who served in the war with my father; or that person with the Phi Beta Kappa sweatshirt that matches mine… If these are the neighbors to whom Jesus was referring, then I’m home free.
But that’s not how Jesus broke it down. The lawyer may have wanted that kind of list – a “who’s in and who’s out,” but, Jesus rarely gave such straight answers. He was far more likely to provoke reflection, set the stage so that his listeners could draw their own conclusions.
In this case, Jesus responded by introducing a cast of characters which was bound to make the lawyer uneasy. First, there where the two men with whom this apparently faithful Jew could relate: temple officials. The lawyer – himself a scholar of Torah, would have had warm feelings as they entered the scene – the same way I feel when I run into a clergy colleague, or another member of the United Church of Christ, or a NH native. Ah! YOU I recognize. We’ve got something in common. We may never have met, but I already know something about you…”
The third person that Jesus introduces… well, that’s a horse of a different color. Just a brief reminder: Samaritans were the sworn enemies of Jews. As I described to the confirmands, who chose this same scripture to include a few weeks back, on Confirmation Sunday, Jews and Samaritans were like Shakespeare’s Capulets and Montagues – only this isn’t fiction, so maybe it’s more accurate to say they were like the Hutus and Tutsis in the Sudan … Catholics and Protestants in Northern Ireland; Shia and Suni in Islam. That is, Jews and Samaritans had a shared religious history, but a different interpretation of sacred texts, and those differences drove a wedge between the two communities. It’s likely that the lawyer listening to Jesus’ story would sooner have suffered in the ditch than accept the help of a Samaritan.
So there you have it: the twist that Jesus always seems to introduce: not the neighbor you want to invite over for dinner, but the one whose invitation you would never accept.
We’ve explored this claim before: that Jesus calls us to cross boundaries, welcome strangers, love enemies. Indeed, you could argue that it’s one of the central tenets of scripture – both Old and New Testament. It may also be the single hardest principle to live into. “Love your neighbor.” Sure. But what if my neighbor is the cop who just pulled us over for a broken tail light, then shot and killed my boyfriend in front of my daughter? Or what if my neighbor is the guy that planned an assault on police officers – ambushed and killed five members of law enforcement as they escorted a peaceful protest? What then? How am I supposed to love, in the face of such utter disregard for human worth?
This is not a trick question, not a set-up, and not intended to shame anyone here for the rage and dismay that you may feel in the wake of this week’s violence. On the contrary: this is an urgent, living, breathing question to which I have no easy answers – which is why we need to lift it up here, in this holy place. Where, if not here, can we grapple with God’s holy demands? Where, if not here, can we confront the gap – in the world around us and in our own lives – between the principle of loving neighbors and its practice?
Because here’s the truth: whether we struggle to empathize with black and brown folks or with police officers … with Christians or Muslims, with sharply dressed business executives or laborers who speak only broken English – the challenge is the same. The fact is that we all, without exception, experience stress in the face of the unknown – including unknown people; we all, without exception, have difficulty empathizing with strangers.
This is scientific fact. I recently heard about a study on empathy,[1] in which pairs of friends, then pairs of strangers were put in a room together and asked to plunge their hands into a bucket of ice water. Participants were then asked to rate how painful it had been for themselves and for the other person. The study found, perhaps not surprisingly, that test subjects expressed empathy for friends (i.e. concern for the amount of pain they felt) but no measurable empathy for strangers.
Here’s where it gets interesting. In part two of the study, those pairs of strangers were asked to play a video game together– a game that involved playing together in a simulated rock band (“You get the drums; I get the guitar.”). After only 10 minutes of play, they returned to the bucket of ice. And the empathy shot up – in fact, they now expressed the same level of empathy for this erstwhile stranger as they had for their friends. After only 10 minutes of playing together.
It was my sister Andrea who once wisely observed that we build relationship by proximity. She was speaking to my younger sister’s architecture class at the time. They were discussing ways to design community spaces. And Andrea said: we don’t build community unless our paths cross. Beloved People of God, this is what I think Jesus was getting at, in his exchange with the lawyer, and frankly what Jesus modeled his whole life and ministry: That loving your neighbor begins with crossing the road, whether it’s for the purpose of giving or receiving assistance, whether to hear a story or play a game, we have to rub elbows.
Ask yourself: Who do you bump into, on a daily basis? How many of your friends look like you? How many come from different regions, cultural backgrounds, or faith traditions? How many of the authors you read share your heritage? How many of the news sources you read echo your own political perspective? How often do you find yourself exposed to a person, perspective or practice that is not your own? How many times in a day do you feel a little uncomfortable, like Jesus made that lawyer uncomfortable?
Sisters and brothers in Christ: we don’t need to wait until we find ourselves in the ditch, or see someone there. Indeed, we cannot wait. The task is too urgent. The stakes are too high. Jesus calls us to cultivate new relationships early and often, so when we do encounter that erstwhile stranger, the seeds of empathy have already taken root, and we are less likely to succumb to fear, grab a gun or seek revenge; and more likely to say, “Dear God, here is my neighbor!”
This is what we can do, when we feel overwhelmed by news of the soul-shattering damage that we inflict on each other; this is what we can commit to doing, every day of our lives: we can cross the street, seek out voices and perspectives that are not our own, listen to testimonies, ask questions, spend time, share a cup of coffee, break bread, play a game. Moment by moment, encounter by encounter, we can learn to love one another as God has loved us. Yes: it takes intentionality, patience, and a major dose of humility. Here’s the Good News: it only takes 10 minutes for the empathy to kick in. Well, 10 minutes and the Holy Spirit moving among us. So what are we waiting for?
Thanks be to God.
Scripture
Luke 10:25-37 – New Revised Standard Version
25Just 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.”
[1] “Press Play,” March 27, 2015, http://www.npr.org/programs/ted-radio-hour/archive