En route to Hanover on a Sunday morning, where I’d preach on the fierce truths dulled by time in the Good Samaritan’s tale, I found myself trailing a black double-cab truck with a giant American flag snapping from its bed, and a bumper sticker supporting our President scorning those who don’t.
My sermon on Sunday highlighted the fact that Jesus was astounding and perhaps confounding his listeners with the parable of the Good Samaritan. In His day, the idea that a Samaritan could be good was confounding. That was the point. Jesus upended expectations, showing that mercy doesn’t come from the expected places, and love doesn’t stay within safe boundaries. The call of God is to love our neighbors with the same boundless compassion the Samaritan showed the man left for dead on the road.
My suggestion as a practice for our week was to examine the lines that we draw to distinguish between “us” versus “them” because Jesus won’t have it. Jesus preached and lived the example of no divisions for his beloved children and the kingdom of God. The parable of the Good Samaritan calls us to do the same.
So, as part of my commute to Hanover, opposite the Hanover Mall, as I approached this massive and lifted black truck, I wondered about the driver, noticed that his driver’s side window was down and that he had a full sleeve of colorful tattoos on his left arm. Being curious, I pulled up alongside him at our next shared stoplight.
When our vehicles were side by side, I looked across at him to put a face to a vehicle, and realized this man driving solo was engaged in one of my favorite commuting pastimes - singing at full voice – and the song blasting on his mega truck stereo was .......... the theme from Beauty and the Beast! He was belting out the lyrics completely unconcerned by my presence. As if God could not make the point any louder for me, as we pulled away from one another, the singing driver offered, “Bittersweet and strange, Finding you can change. Learning you were wrong!”
I was wrong. I laughed out loud with gratitude and appreciation for God’s teaching moment. This man was in my prayers on Sunday morning, my prayers for the gifts God offers us. Here was my Samaritan, my good neighbor, at a stoplight.
As we continue to work on our spiritual gifts and build muscles together this summer, I hope that you too will find moments of happiness and surprising bouts of joy. And, if you happen to know or run into this driver, please offer him my thanks for embodying God’s truth about love and mercy. Amy+
My sermon on Sunday highlighted the fact that Jesus was astounding and perhaps confounding his listeners with the parable of the Good Samaritan. In His day, the idea that a Samaritan could be good was confounding. That was the point. Jesus upended expectations, showing that mercy doesn’t come from the expected places, and love doesn’t stay within safe boundaries. The call of God is to love our neighbors with the same boundless compassion the Samaritan showed the man left for dead on the road.
My suggestion as a practice for our week was to examine the lines that we draw to distinguish between “us” versus “them” because Jesus won’t have it. Jesus preached and lived the example of no divisions for his beloved children and the kingdom of God. The parable of the Good Samaritan calls us to do the same.
So, as part of my commute to Hanover, opposite the Hanover Mall, as I approached this massive and lifted black truck, I wondered about the driver, noticed that his driver’s side window was down and that he had a full sleeve of colorful tattoos on his left arm. Being curious, I pulled up alongside him at our next shared stoplight.
When our vehicles were side by side, I looked across at him to put a face to a vehicle, and realized this man driving solo was engaged in one of my favorite commuting pastimes - singing at full voice – and the song blasting on his mega truck stereo was .......... the theme from Beauty and the Beast! He was belting out the lyrics completely unconcerned by my presence. As if God could not make the point any louder for me, as we pulled away from one another, the singing driver offered, “Bittersweet and strange, Finding you can change. Learning you were wrong!”
I was wrong. I laughed out loud with gratitude and appreciation for God’s teaching moment. This man was in my prayers on Sunday morning, my prayers for the gifts God offers us. Here was my Samaritan, my good neighbor, at a stoplight.
As we continue to work on our spiritual gifts and build muscles together this summer, I hope that you too will find moments of happiness and surprising bouts of joy. And, if you happen to know or run into this driver, please offer him my thanks for embodying God’s truth about love and mercy. Amy+
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