Tasters
The Compassionate
Millwall Fan
The Missing Pupil
The Compassionate Millwall Fan
The teachers of the law were a pernickety bunch and constantly looking for a way of tripping Jesus up. They never succeeded, but that didn’t stop them trying!
Here an ‘expert in the law’ hoped to entangle Jesus in a definition debate:“When you say, ‘love your neighbour’, who exactly is my neighbour?”
As always, Jesus came up with a stunning response:
My friend, Jermaine, a sports teacher, went on a day-trip with some of his mates to Marseille to watch England play Russia in Euro 2016. Before he even arrived at the ground the group he was in was caught up in fights and riots between rival supporters. It was nothing to do with him, of course, it was just his misfortune to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. He became separated from the rest of his group and was badly beaten up. He was also robbed of his wallet, match tickets and, crucially, his passport. He was hurt, his clothes were ripped, he was bloodied, and he needed help.
The police were worse than useless and indeed he only narrowly avoided being arrested. He remembers asking various people for help. A young couple, some other businessmen, some girls, even someone who appeared to be a priest. No-one was prepared to help. Maybe because they thought he was a dangerous hooligan. Maybe because they just didn’t want to get involved. Maybe because they were in too much of a hurry to get to the game (by now it was getting towards kick-off). Whatever, they walked on by and Jermaine was becoming desperate.
He became even more alarmed when a 17-stone, bare-torsoed, garishly-tattooed Millwall supporter arrived on the scene. Fearing another kicking, he tried to get away but was grabbed by the giant. To Jermaine’s utter surprise, the guy sat him down and asked how he was. He gave him a drink, (beer not water but Jermaine wasn’t complaining!) He asked where he was staying and on finding that Jermaine had no hotel, money or passport he hailed a taxi and took him to a nearby hotel. He then proceeded to book him in, leaving his own credit card as security, and then jumped back in the taxi to get to the game with a promise to return afterwards. Which he did.
Now, the question is: who was neighbour to my friend?
The legal eagle thought long and hard and then hesitantly replied: ‘The Millwall fan, because he had compassion.’
‘Spot on, take a lead from him!’
The parable of the good Samaritan
Luke 10:25–37
25 On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. ‘Teacher,’ he asked, ‘what must I do to inherit eternal life?’
26 ‘What is written in the Law?’ he replied. ‘How do you read it?’
27 He answered, ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’ and, ‘Love your neighbour as yourself.’
28 ‘You have answered correctly,’ Jesus replied. ‘Do this and you will live.’
29 But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, ‘And who is my neighbour?’
30 In reply Jesus said:‘A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half-dead. 31 A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. 32 So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. 33 But a Samaritan, as he travelled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. 34 He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. 35 The next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper. “Look after him,” he said, “and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.”
36 ‘Which of these three do you think was a neighbour to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?’
37 The expert in the law replied, ‘The one who had mercy on him.’
Jesus told him, ‘Go and do likewise.’
So, what’s this story saying to us, here and now?
Jesus took the cosy concept of neighbourliness:people we know, people we like, people nearby, people like us; and blew it apart.
Neighbourliness he said, is not about physical proximity; it’s an attitude of mind, a relationship with humanity as a whole.
The Jews hated Samaritans with a passion.
Jesus turned that prejudice against them.
I said that Jesus made a stunning response and the law expert would indeed have been almost literally stunned. First by the story, then by the logic that forced him to admit that a Samaritan had been a good neighbour.
We live in a world of 24-hour rolling news and global connectivity.
Never have we known our ‘neighbours’ better.
Do we allow that knowledge to confront our prejudices or just to confirm them?
It’s an important question, because as Jesus points out in response to the law expert’s first question, loving our neighbour is one of the keys to eternal life. And things don’t get much more important than that!
Historical footnote
It’s possible to interpret the concept of a ‘neighbour’ in two ways. In a metaphorical sense:any human being in need. And in a geographical sense:those physically closest to you.
In my hotwiring above, I’ve tried to link the two in a way that speaks to us today, here and now.
But, when Jesus first told the story it would have been radical teaching, in both senses of neighbourliness.
First, in Jewish culture, to suffer any kind of misfortune was regarded as a sign that you had sinned and incurred God’s displeasure. The fault was yours and the solution was to mend your ways. This story blows that apart. When he said ‘Go and do likewise’ Jesus was telling his audience, and us, that we need to look beyond any ‘labelling’ of such people; instead to see them as God’s creation that he loves and cares about.
Second, the closest neighbours to the Jews were the Samaritans, the inhabitants of Samaria. In times gone by, this had been the Northern Kingdom of Israel, with Judah forming the Southern Kingdom. For various reasons, a deep rift had developed between the two.
In Jesus’ story a Samaritan shows love and compassion for a Jew. When he said ‘Go and do likewise’ Jesus was telling his audience to reconcile themselves with their closest neighbours, their ancestral brothers and sisters. To heal the family rift. Go, in love for them, to make things right with them.
And where was the first recorded Christian church to be established outside Jerusalem?
Yep, in Samaria (see Acts 8).
As Peter and John hastened there to confirm the new Samaritan Christians with the Holy Spirit, maybe Jesus’ parable was still ringing in their ears!
So, a final thought: are you estranged with anyone that Jesus may want you to make things right with?
Reflection and Prayer
Is God calling me to be a neighbour to somebody? Anybody?
(Maybe even to somebody I don’t actually like very much?)
The Tale of the missing pupil
Jesus had been talking about the need for people to re-think faith issues. To forgo the prevailing legalistic mindset, and approach it anew through the eyes of a child. To illustrate this, he told the famous parable of the shepherd and the lost sheep:
Ollie was tumbling in a white gyroscope.
Ollie the ‘Beast of Year 9’.
Ollie was petrified.
Charlotte began the headcount.
Things had started so well.
The dawn of the ski trip in the Austrian Alps had slowly drawn its curtains on a cloudless, deep blue sky and a sparkling white snowscape.
She and the other four teachers had shepherded the kids onto the ski-bus to the base of the mountain and then onto the 2,000-feet gondola ride to the ski slopes.
Where, after the dreaded ski-off assessment run, their 100 pupil charges had been split into five groups ranked by experience and ability, each group with a local ski instructor.
Ollie couldn’t stop himself falling.
Ollie the ‘King of Detention’.
Ollie gasped.
The first three groups were first-timers and they were taken to the nursery slopes.
The fourth group had a couple of weeks’ experience and headed off to the blue runs.
The remaining handful ventured further afield across the mountain to some stiff reds and blacks.
Charlotte, the trip leader and most experienced skier, patrolled the nursery slopes and the blue runs checking on the progress of her less experienced pupils.
Fun in the sun.
She promised herself that she would have even more fun showing her elite group the way down the black runs later in the week.
Then the weather turned.
Ollie saw his ski detach and disappear into the white.
Ollie the ‘Enforcer’.
Ollie screamed.
The cloud base dropped like a doomed elevator. The bright blue sky became steely grey. A biting wind set in.
The fun disappeared.
Fortunately, the local ski instructors knew their mountain and had anticipated events. They knew it was time to get off the mountain.
Charlotte supervised the groups as they assembled at the top of the gondola.
As the three nursery groups started their descent back down, the fourth group were returning from their blue runs.
So far, so good. Ninety pupils on their way. The 10 black-runners were higher up the mountain but should be back shortly.
Ollie felt his face numbing.
Ollie the ‘Teacher Tamer’.
Ollie wept.
Charlotte counted in the elite group.
...7, 8, 9.
‘Where’s the tenth?’ she yelled at the instructor.
He looked at her blankly.
‘For goodness sake,’ she said and headed for the nearest ski lift.
She reached the top. It was even worse than she had feared. A complete white-out, with visibility down to a couple of yards.
There were two slopes back down the mountain:Red 4 and Black 13. Reasoning that the instructor would have chosen the easier route she headed off down Red 4.
Charlotte prayed.
Ollie felt so alone.
Ollie the infamous ‘One and Only’.
Ollie prayed.
Charlotte saw a dark shape just ahead and to her left.
Instinctively she stabbed her right leg, her downward ski, into the slope to come to a juddering stop, downslope of Ollie.
She reached out and grabbed him.
‘Take off your ski.’
He looked at her.
‘For once in your life just do as you are told.’
Ollie did as he was told.
Charlotte grabbed him. ‘Stand on my skis in front of me.’
That night 99 pupils were sipping hot chocolate and swapping stories of their great adventure.
But Charlotte was still hugging her 100th charge.
Who, for the first time in his life was enjoying being teacher’s pet.
The parable of the lost sheep
Luke 15:4–7
4 ‘Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? 5 And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders 6 and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbours together and says, “Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.” 7 I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.’
The parable of the wandering sheep
Matthew 18:12–14
12 ‘What do you think? If a man owns a hundred sheep, and one of them wanders away, will he not leave the ninety-nine on the hills and go to look for the one that wandered off? 13 And if he finds it, truly I tell you, he is happier about that one sheep than about the ninety-nine that did not wander off. 14 In the same way your Father in heaven is not willing that any of these little ones should perish.’
So, what’s this story saying to us, here and now?
I don’t know about you, but I don’t know many shepherds.
But I do know lots of teachers.
My youngest daughter, Charlotte, is one. A PE teacher. And she leads ski trips.
Which was the inspiration for my rewiring of the parable.
I don’t know a lot of lost sheep either.
But I do know a lot of lost people.
We all do. The world is full of lost souls.
You and I are unlikely to be able to reach them all.
(Although, with God on our side, we should be careful never to rule anything completely out.)
But this parable talks about a particular kind of ‘lost sheep’. In fact, Matthew calls it a ‘wandering sheep’.
Someone who was once part of the flock, secure in the fold but is now absent.
Twenty years ago, a piece of research was done which showed that 20% of people were regular or occasional churchgoers; but that a further 20% were lapsed churchgoers who were open to the idea of returning. They had not been particularly disenchanted with their churchgoing experience, nor had they rejected their faith. For whatever reason, they had just dropped out of the habit of going.
This was an observed church-wide phenomenon.
How about your church? Has anyone stopped coming?
Maybe it has been a gradual process and they have simply dropped off the radar.
Maybe they were a bit of an Ollie.
Maybe this happened years ago.
Maybe, it’s only now as you read this that you realise that you haven’t seen them for a while.
Maybe you could seek them out on social media.
Or, better still, drop round and see them.
Reflection and Prayer
Which lost sheep do I know?