The Fifth Sunday after Pentecost - Rev. Aimee Baxter

 We’ve been watching the show Only Murders in the Building in our house. If you are a fan, don’t worry. There will be no spoilers. This story comes from Season One. If you aren’t a fan yet, the show is about three unlikely tenants (played by Steve Martin, Martin Short, and Selena Gomez) in an apartment building in New York City coming together to solve the murder of another tenant in the building. 

 Hilarity and lots of drama ensue throughout the show, but in perhaps one of the greatest comical scenes, Steve Martin’s character is poisoned which leaves him unable to speak clearly and use his legs. He is essentially left for dead. 

He manages to work his way to the hall and get on the elevator to find help. Picture this - a man unable to speak or walk, lying in the elevator when two other tenants walk in for a ride. They make eyes at each other and mumble something along the lines of, “drunk as usual”. They never really even look at him at all. 

Another rider hops on. He does at least look at him and asks, “You okay, man?” Before waiting for an answer, he proceeds to tell him that he’s a doctor and all the forms of payment he takes (including bitcoin), but he stops there. 

The passengers arrive at their floor and get off the elevator as if nothing new or different has happened. It is one of those moments when you’re watching TV and yelling, “Someone please help this man!”

I feel the same way when I hear our gospel reading for today. “Someone, anyone, please help this man!” 

We’ve heard this story before - The Parable of the Good Samaritan. I feel like we’ve pointed out the hypocrisy of the Priest and the Levites moving to the other side of the road, as well as the irony of the Samaritan being the one who is willing to stop and help the man. 

I must confess this Scripture is a tough one for me. I don’t feel like I can stand here today and honestly tell you I would stop to help. I fear I am much more like the Priest and the Levite who would move to the other side. 

Our Pilgrimage group did a lot of walking a couple of weeks ago in two of our country’s biggest cities. While we were walking one day one of our pilgrims said, “Crazy how New York is the only place you can walk by a body lying on the ground and just keep going. I mean, no one seems to worry if the person is alive or not.”

My thoughts immediately turned to this passage, but it did not change my actions. In fact, the very next day we walked by a man who I stopped long enough to evaluate and honestly couldn’t tell you if he was sleeping or not. 

I’ve spent some time in big cities the last few weeks and it isn’t just New York City that has confronted me with people in need. I’ve walked past them in Washington, DC, Atlanta and even Eufaula, AL. When I walk by I think to myself or mumble out loud, “I just don’t know what to do in this situation. It’s so hard.”

So, I tell you this to say that in a lot of ways I stand before you today feeling a bit hypocritical. This declaration from Jesus that the one who showed mercy is the neighbor seems like it would be so easy to live into. Yet, we know it is much harder than we can imagine. 

I believe Jesus knew that too. What we glean from this interaction can’t just be about how we treat a panhandler on the street. Yes, it is important to consider how we handle those situations, but Jesus’ desire for us to show mercy to one another goes beyond a one off experience of helping someone in distress. It maybe even lays the foundation for how to better handle those situations.

What does it mean to show mercy to one another? 

It starts with not assuming the worst about the other person. I imagine there were lots of assumptions made by those who walked by the man who had been robbed. 

“Clearly he must have been in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“What did he do to get himself into this mess?”

Or like the characters on the television show. “There he is drunk as usual.” 

Or perhaps one of the things we have probably said to ourselves to justify walking by - “A lot of these people choose to live in this situation on purpose. I’ll never understand it.”

Maybe we should quit assuming - because all know what happens when we assume. 

Instead, what if we chose to take the most generous view with each other? To assume the best intentions behind our words and actions. 

Do you know our bodies are hard-wired to love a good story?  So, what that means is even if we don’t have all the facts about a situation or person, our brains will fill in the holes and form the narrative. We will feel good about it and endorphins will be released even if the story is inaccurate. 

For example, I can be in a conversation with someone at my house as I walk into the kitchen to make myself a drink. The conversation pauses as I pull the container out of the fridge to spill it all over the counter. I let out a huge sigh followed by some “ughs” and mumbling. At that moment, they can believe that all of my responses are directed at them and not the drink. They can instantly form a narrative that I am annoyed by them and wish they’d stop talking. Their brain can feel really good about that story and they can lash out at me with their disappointment. 

Or, they can choose the generous view and ask if everything is okay and if I need help. They can assume the best and not the worst. 

Who is my neighbor? Maybe another way to answer is the one who gives the most generous viewpoint of the other. The one who pushes against the narratives that are so easily spun in our minds and our culture. The one who shows mercy. 

My mom and I were talking this past week about that expression we Southerners love, “Bless your heart!” We were reflecting on how those words can mean totally different things based on the tone and context of how you say them. You could say one way is a much more generous view than the other. 

My seven year old, Asa, chimes in and says, “Bless your holy heart!” I was taken aback for a minute and asked him where he had heard that before. He said, “We say bless your holy heart at church.” I grinned and moved on. 

I’ve been thinking about what he said and I think there’s some wisdom there. When we have that moment where we want to assume the worst and pass out a “Bless your heart!” to someone, what if we stopped and considered the sacred image of God they bear? Maybe that might inspire a more generous view to bless their holy heart. 

Who is a neighbor? The one who shows mercy and offers the most generous view of others. The one who is willing to give the benefit of the doubt and a helping hand. And maybe they even throw in a “Bless your holy heart!” while they’re at it! Amen.