5 Pentecost, Proper 10
10 Jul 2022
It is not the usual style of a homilist to read the sermon someone else wrote, especially one written 54 years ago by MLK, Jr. I do so because it is impossible for me to write or to say these words with any greater clarity than King himself. These words were part of his “I’ve been to the mountaintop” sermon of March 1968, delivered during the Memphis sanitation worker’s strike. He was assassinated one day after delivering the speech.
Let us develop a kind of dangerous unselfishness. One day a man came to Jesus, and he wanted to raise some questions about some vital matters of life. At points he wanted to trick Jesus, and show him that he knew a little more than Jesus knew and throw him off base.... Now that question could have easily ended up in a philosophical and theological debate. But Jesus immediately pulled that question from mid-air, and placed it on a dangerous curve between Jerusalem and Jericho. And he talked about a certain man, who fell among thieves. You remember that a Levite and a priest passed by on the other side. They didn't stop to help him. And finally a man of another race came by. He got down from his beast, decided not to be compassionate by proxy. But he got down with him, administered first aid, and helped the man in need. Jesus ended up saying, this was the good man, this was the great man, because he had the capacity to project the "I" into the "thou," and to be concerned about his brother. Now you know, we use our imagination a great deal to try to determine why the priest and the Levite didn't stop. At times we say they were busy going to a church meeting, an ecclesiastical gathering, and they had to get on down to Jerusalem so they wouldn't be late for their meeting. At other times we would speculate that there was a religious law that "One who was engaged in religious ceremonials was not to touch a human body twenty-four hours before the ceremony." And every now and then we begin to wonder whether maybe they were not going down to Jerusalem -- or down to Jericho, rather to organize a "Jericho Road Improvement Association." That's a possibility. Maybe they felt that it was better to deal with the problem from the causal root, rather than to get bogged down with an individual effect. But I'm going to tell you what my imagination tells me. It's possible that those men were afraid. You see, the Jericho road is a dangerous road. I remember when Mrs. King and I were first in Jerusalem. We rented a car and drove from Jerusalem down to Jericho. And as soon as we got on that road, I said to my wife, "I can see why Jesus used this as the setting for his parable." It's a winding, meandering road. It's really conducive for ambushing. You start out in Jerusalem, which is about 1200 miles -- or rather 1200 feet above sea level. And by the time you get down to Jericho, fifteen or twenty minutes later, you're about 2200 feet below sea level. That's a dangerous road. In the days of Jesus it came to be known as the "Bloody Pass." And you know, it's possible that the priest and the Levite looked over that man on the ground and wondered if the robbers were still around. Or it's possible that they felt that the man on the ground was merely faking. And he was acting like he had been robbed and hurt, in order to seize them over there, lure them there for quick and easy seizure. And so the first question that the priest asked -- the first question that the Levite asked was, "If I stop to help this man, what will happen to me?" But then the Good Samaritan came by. And he reversed the question: "If I do not stop to help this man, what will happen to him?" That's the question before you tonight. Not, "If I stop to help the sanitation workers, what will happen to my job. Not, "If I stop to help the sanitation workers what will happen to all of the hours that I usually spend in my office every day and every week as a pastor?" The question is not, "If I stop to help this man in need, what will happen to me?" The question is, "If I do not stop to help the sanitation workers, what will happen to them?" That's the question. Let us rise up tonight with a greater readiness. Let us stand with a greater determination. And let us move on in these powerful days, these days of challenge to make America what it ought to be. We have an opportunity to make America a better nation. And I want to thank God, once more, for allowing me to be here with you.
We all walk on that dangerous road to Jericho and we all make our own excuses as to why we cannot or should not stop. King frames the question, or perhaps better stated, raises the question to a new level. What will happen to those who are injured, who are suffering? The Black sanitations workers in Memphis were treated as less than human and, without the aid of others, would not ever be treated as full human beings.
You journey on the road to Jericho; it is full of risks and dangers. Where, or to whom, are you willing to give aid? When are you willing or able to step beyond your own comfortable existence to ask what will happen to the person who needs aid? In my shame, I can think of times I have chosen not to ask the question of what will happen to the other and have not answered the call. For those times I grieve my fear and failure. But I can no longer do so. For me personally, the question is in part answered by providing a safe space for LBGTQ+ kids in a world that is growing more hostile. It is providing services for women who are being denied access to reproductive health care, including abortions. It is in advocating for refugees and immigrants. It is in opposing Christian nationalism, which to me is not Christianity at all but rather ideology in service to an elite cadre of people. It is in telling the whole truth of our history as a nation; it is becoming the Beloved Community.
Jesus did not set out to found a new religion; he set out to call us to return to the Way that God intended for us when the world was created.
The foundation of our faith is not a set of beliefs; it is not a set of rituals. Orthodoxy, despite what many would say, is not the important weightier matter. Orthopraxis, or right action, is what Jesus is telling us counts most and which was so well expounded by Dr. King.
Amos tells us that if you neglect justice long enough, there is no going back. We want to think there is always a point of return. I wonder if perhaps in this nation we have reached that point; I hope in that I am wrong.
Who is your neighbor?
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