Most of us have a warm and fuzzy image of Jesus.
We envision strolling through the countryside, eating loaves and fish with him, basking in the miracles of the sick who are healed and sent home whole again.
It’s cozy picturing the things he taught about — easy yokes, light burdens and “blessed are the peacemakers” — and those things make us say, “Yeah, Jesus! Sign me up for that!”
Steve Cothran
Unless, of course, we make the mistake of asking him, “What do you mean by that?”
Then we’re liable to find ourselves in a much more awkward position of realizing just how much it might cost us to love other people.
That’s what happened when someone asked Jesus to clarify if there might be any limitations on which neighbors the law required him to love.
Clearing his throat, Jesus said something like this:
A man was in his yard minding his own business when he was ambushed by his next-door neighbor. The neighbor beat him mercilessly, stripped him, leaving the man half-naked by the sidewalk, and kidnapped some of his children.
As he lay there, fighting for his life, a colleague approached. Seeing the man, instead of passing by on the other side, he came closer with his hand outstretched.
But instead of lifting up the wounded man, he pointed an accusing finger at him and said, “Why aren’t you wearing a suit?”
“Maybe someone would be willing to help you if you’d show a little more gratitude that I even bothered to check on you.”
Barely able to speak, the victim rasped, “I’ve been ambushed by my neighbor, and I’m just trying to survive.”
It would’ve been difficult and costly to lift up this battered friend and help him put his shattered life back together. But he was in a hurry, and it was almost effortless to kick someone who was down so he said, “Well, you’re embarrassing yourself and the whole neighborhood.”
In a weird way, it even gave the passerby a feeling of self-righteousness. So before walking away, he added, “Maybe someone would be willing to help you if you’d show a little more gratitude that I even bothered to check on you.”
He’d barely passed the injured man’s property line when another former partner was in the man’s bloodied face — not to help, but to continue blaming and abusing this poor man.
“It’s your own fault, you know! If you had done what I told you to do this never would’ve happened. That was really disrespectful of you.”
Reeling in disbelief, the mistreated man looked up through bruised eyelids at the one accusing him of bringing this calamity upon himself.
“Please! We need your help! Do it for the children! At least call the police and tell them what my neighbor did. Everyone witnessed it!” he cried.
“No, no. You’re confused. I think this was actually your fault. Your neighbor was just defending himself,” said the even more unhelpful second man. “Yes, that’s the ticket.”
Smug with satisfaction, he hurriedly caught up to the first fool and they journeyed on together speculating how this “unfortunate” event might eventually increase their own property values.
“So,” Jesus asked, turning to his audience, “which of these fulfilled the law and proved to be a loving neighbor to the man who was injured?”
“Neither of them,” answered the confused questioner.
“Then go, and do not be like either of them,” Jesus replied.
Steve Cothran is a native of Greenville, S.C., and holds degrees from Furman University, Southern Baptist Theological Seminary and Campbell Divinity School. He has served churches in Florida, North Carolina and Georgia, as well as six years in Kentucky where he and his wife, Nancy, were on the same staff together. He has written curriculum for Smyth & Helwys, CBF and d365, enjoys writing regular columns for the Newnan Times-Herald, and dreams of being the oldest cast member on Saturday Night Live.
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