One thing I notice is that religion itself is often a barrier to making better choices. Let's look at two stories from the gospel according to Luke, one coming from Jesus' life and the other a story he told.
The first account is found in Luke 17:11-18. One day Jesus encountered ten lepers who begged him for pity. He told them to go show themselves to the priest. The Levitical law instructed priests to examine skin sores and declare a person "clean" or "unclean" based on his findings. (You can find detailed instructions in Leviticus 13-14, if you're into that sort of thing.) Not until the lepers were on their way did their skin clear up. At that point, one of them turned around and came back to thank Jesus. Jesus noted that ten men were healed and asked why only one came back. But that one was different from the rest. He was a Samaritan, a "foreigner," in Jesus' words.
I've heard several thousand sermons in my life, including at least a few on this passage. One thing I don't remember anyone ever mentioning is that the Samaritan man would have had no incentive to continue on his way to the Jewish priest. Being a Samaritan (from Samaria) was both a cultural and religious designation. He had no place in the Jewish community. Even if the priest agreed to examine him, an all-clear diagnosis would still not allow him to be part of the synagogue, the center of Jewish community. He wasn't a "real" Jew. His heritage was tainted with foreign blood. He was free to return to Jesus because of his lack of religious standing.
Next, let's look at the parable of the Good Samaritan found in Luke 10:25-37. A man is "half dead" by the side of the road after being beaten and robbed. Along comes a Jewish priest and sees the "half dead" man. He crosses the road to stay far from the "half dead" body. Again, we need to go back to Leviticus to comprehend this. There were many things encountered in daily living that left a person "unclean." In fact, the word "unclean" occurs over 100 times in the book of Leviticus. Priests had even stricter rules than ordinary people for avoiding uncleanness. The priest in Jesus' story had good reason to cross the road to avoid that "half dead" man. He could not afford to come close to a human corpse, and the unfortunate traveler was at least halfway to being one.
The next passerby was a Levite. All priests were from the tribe of Levi (one of the twelve sons of Jacob, also know as Israel), but not all Levites were priests. Levites were given no land among the Israelites. They were religious workers and depended on the offerings given by the people for their support. This man would have had religious duties to perform. Although he had fewer restrictions than the priest, he still wouldn't want to end up in an "unclean" state for the sake of a stranger in the ditch. He came close enough to see that the man was "half dead" and probably had enough blood on him to render one unclean until evening and then he, too, passed by on the other side of the road without touching him.
Finally, along came the Samaritan. He didn't have to worry about becoming "unclean." Like the man with leprosy in our first story, he was already and forever "unclean" by Jewish standards. He examined the man, did some first aid, and took him to an inn to recover. He could afford to be kind and generous because he had no religious restrictions holding him back.
Part 1 of this series, in essence, notes that non-religious people are often more gracious than religious people -- offering more generosity, more mercy, and less judgment. Here in these stories in Luke, it appears that religion itself sometimes lies behind that difference. Religion limits how nice we can be by giving us restrictive rules to follow.
Here is the root of our quandary. The priest and Levite in the story of the Good Samaritan were dedicated to keeping the law. That's why they couldn't stop to help the beaten man. The nine Jewish lepers who didn't turn back to thank Jesus for their healing were doing exactly what Jesus had told them to do and what their religion required of them. The Samaritan had more freedom to express his gratitude.
How often when religious people show a lack of generosity toward others -- whether in material goods or in spirit -- are they making that choice because it's the "right" thing to do? They don't want to appear to approve of sinners or they have already committed their time and energy to religious duties. They desperately want to please God and are making what appears to them to be the choice that will accomplish that goal. They are staying clean!
A number of years ago, as I arrived at church on a special Sunday morning, I saw a disabled vehicle in the church parking lot. I recognized it as belonging to a local man with no end of problems, many of them brought on by his unsavory character. He had already caused me trouble in my public service job and would cause a lot more before finally moving on several years later after being evicted from his housing situation. Still, he was a literal neighbor to the church trying to get his disabled self to another church in the community and obviously not having a good day. I stopped long enough to learn what the issue was and then continued to my assignment for the morning. I'm a good church lady, after all, and need to be conscientious and dependable, especially on those special Sundays. Plus, I had no mechanical skills to offer. Even if I had, there aren't many men who want a woman to fix their vehicle for them. And he hadn't actually asked for my assistance.
As we transitioned between scheduled events that morning I mentioned the disabled vehicle to someone with weaker attachments to the congregation. He seemed shocked that I had left the disabled owner of the disabled vehicle to his own resources and went out to see if he could help, forsaking any commitment he had made for the morning. As it turns out, the man had found a way to move on by then, leaving his vehicle behind (for several weeks, as it turned out).
I was convicted. Why hadn't I looked for someone to help as soon as I arrived? Could I have found a man or two willing to leave their Sunday morning fellowship in their Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes to rescue a stranger with a disabled vehicle? Regrettably, I wasn't sure I could have. We need more "marginal Christians" -- not so well-dressed or dedicated to being there -- with the right resources to offer that sort of service. In short, we need people who are less religious than most of us, people willing to get a little unclean in order to connect with others.
I'm back to where I started: the more religious people are, including me, the less generous their lifestyle tends to be. Something is wrong with this picture. How can we embrace a more gracious lifestyle without forsaking our commitment to righteousness?
Check out part 3 for further thoughts concerning this quandary.
No comments:
Post a Comment