Then an expert on the law stood up to test Jesus, saying, "Teacher what must I do to get life forever?" Jesus said, "What is written in the law? What do you read there?" The man answered, "Love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your strength, and all your mind." Also, "Love your neighbor as you love yourself." Jesus said to him, "Your answer is right. Do this and you will live." But the man, wanting to show the importance of his question, said to Jesus, "And who is my neighbor?" Jesus answered, "As a man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, some robbers attacked him. They tore off his clothes, beat him, and left him lying there, almost dead. It happened that a priest was going down that road. When he saw the man, he walked by on the other side. Next, a Levite came there, and after he went over and looked at the man, he walked by on the other side of the road. Then a Samaritan traveling down the road came to where the hurt man was. When he saw the man, he felt very sorry for him. The Samaritan went to him, poured olive oil and wine on his wounds, and bandaged them. Then he put the hurt man on his own donkey an took him to an inn where he cared for him. The next day, the Samaritan brought out two coins, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, "Take care of this man. If you spend more money on him, I will pay it back to you when I come again." Then Jesus said, "Which one of these three men do you think was a neighbor to the man who was attacked by the robbers?" The expert on the law answered, "The one who showed him mercy." Jesus said to him, "Then go and do what he did." (Luke 10:25-37 NCV)(emphasis mine)
In her book, Overextended...and loving most of it!, Lisa Harper writes, "The story of the Good Samaritan underscores a running theme in the Bible: people matter to God. And He expects them to matter to us as well. Additionally, his familiar parable highlights a principle that God has been pounding into my hard head a lot over the past few years: part of the blessing is in the stretch itself. In other words, when compassion is coupled with inconvenience, it's sweeter. Because if I only extend kindness when it's convenient or natural for me, then I don't need much of God's help to make the investment. But when I give from an account that already feels overdrawn, then I have to depend on Him to transform my meager capacity into grace that benefits the receiver." Recently, a dear friend of mine and I were having a conversation about service, availability, reaching out, extension, and she said something at the tail end of our conversation that I cannot shake. Her thought not original, but containing a simple truth, "If you are looking for an opportunity to help another person, you'll find one." This idea of kindness, others first, help a brother out, (for many of us) is one of life's first lessons. A toddler adamantly forms the word, "mine," for the first time and is quickly instructed to share. A dispute over a ball erupts on the playground, and a frustrated young boy is reminded to take turns. Two hungry children, one cookie, we encourage the ravenous youngsters to break the cookie, be satisfied with their lot, and (hopefully) not shed any tears. And while this "golden rule" model of servitude is taught and reinforced in the lives of our little ones, so often as adults we forget or fail to put into practice what we preach.
o·ver·ex·tend
tr.v. o·ver·ex·tend·ed, o·ver·ex·tend·ing, o·ver·ex·tends
1. To expand or disperse beyond a safe or reasonable limit: overextended their defenses.
2. To obligate (oneself) beyond a limit, especially a financial one.
thefreedictionary.com
At the time, I had not thought to label it, this season, {thoughts on hospitality, loving thy neighbor, serving the Body} this growth opportunity as "overextension," but I absolutely love the idea of being stretched "beyond a safe and reasonable limit." Even more, this idea that when I "obligate myself beyond the limits of my own capacity" I am implicitly trusting the Lord. As I lean in, He enables, equips, and provides. Ultimately, in my weakened state, He receives all of the glory.
One of the most compelling aspects (in my opinion) of the story of the Good Samaritan is found in simple geography. At the time of Christ's earthly ministry the road from Jerusalem to Jericho was commonly referred to as "The Way of Blood." Treacherous, narrow, and rocky, the winding trail had a reputation for criminal activity. Being that the road, the only route between the two cities, was so narrow it would have been impossible to miss the man lying beaten on the road. I picture both the priest and Levite going out of their way, perhaps off the well beaten path, to avoid any form of contact or interaction. For as long as I can remember, my initial response to their actions was one of disapproval. As I shook my pride-filled and unforgiving figurative head at their inaction, I failed to acknowledge the countless times I, too, looked the other way, didn't seize the opportunity (when prompted) to put another's needs before my very own, or "innocently" went about my day in such a manner that I didn't lift my gaze long enough to really see others. In the past month, as I have revisited this passage, the Lord, ever gracious and loving, has allowed me to view this text with fresh eyes. I am struck by this visual, a narrow road, a man in need, and the choice to either walk around or confront the need head on, in essence walk directly into him. Harper explains it this way, "Jesus doesn't necessarily paint them (the priest and Levite) unneighborly. He simply explains they didn't recognize the scope of His neighborhood. They missed the privilege of stretching beyond the confines of their calendars and job descriptions to pour grace on someone who was desperate for it. Fortunately, the Samaritan had wiped enough fog off his relational glasses to understand that anyone Jehovah allowed him to rub shoulders with was a neighbor." Good stuff.
This morning, I unexpectedly caught a glimpse of a tiny stretch mark on my left side, one of the few visible reminders (if I'm not counting hips forever changed, and skin that could never be described as taut) of carrying our son, our nine pound boy, the only one to stretch the skin of my abdomen in such a way as to leave a mark. With Harper's words fresh in my mind, and thoughts of loving others more honestly, openly and sacrificially swirling in my heart, the sight of the stretch mark brought me to tears. And, I was tempted to stifle their flow, but then I remembered this and that "tears are the simplest way to listen for your life." And, I was overwhelmed by the beauty of it all - the stretching, the faith building, the opportunity to serve, the calling, the Body of Christ in all of its glory, and the simple fact that in His profound love, He invites me to be a part of it, to play any part...at all.
Lord Jesus, I want and I need your power
to rest on me and settle my restless heart.
I'll not pray about next week or even tomorrow.
Just give me the manna of gospel kindness
for this one day.
Help me respond gently and not react rigidly
to the weakness of others.
Help me to roll up my sleeves and not roll
my eyes when I meet brokenness in others.
Help me to love as you love me, for that
is the bottom line and the top priority.
I pray in your powerful name. Amen
from Everyday Prayers by Scotty Smith
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