8th Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 15, Year B

Let’s Dance an Alleluia!

Readings: 2 Samuel 6:1-4, 12b-19; Psalm 24; Ephesians 1:3-14; Mark 6:14-29

We have two very different dances in the readings today; one, a dance of life, the other a macabre dance of death.
The dance of life is a great parade with lots of music, song and dance, an exuberant celebration of God’s presence. David and the people of Israel dance before the Lord. The Ark of the Covenant, a symbol of their common life together is returned to the city amidst great rejoicing. This is not David, the dignified King. This is a down to earth David, truly celebrating with the people. He gives in with his whole being, heart, body and soul.

There is, of course an undercurrent of unrest. There is no doubt in my mind that David loves God in these wonderful stories, but there is also little doubt that he loves himself more. David is not without political motivation. It is a victory, after all; one that has not been without violence. We will see that other side of David in the stories that follow. And even in this story, not everyone is pleased with David’s joyful dance. An irreconcilable rift comes between David and his wife Michal. She does not join in the celebration. In fact, David may never have treated her as a wife the rest of her life. There is certainly political motivation behind that. If she were to have children, Saul’s line would continue. Her barrenness completes God’s choice of David and the rejection of Saul.

The dance of death is a story made in Hollywood. In fact, it has been made into a movie. There is also an opera, Salome, depicting the story. Richard Strauss achieved instant success with it. If you have ever seen the opera you know that he admirably captures not only its fairy tale qualities but also its horror. It has an amazing, if terrifying appeal.

The setting is a magnificent banquet hall in Herod’s palace. From a terrace at one side of the hall you can see the dungeon in which John is confined. Salome goes out onto the moonlit terrace to take a look at the prisoner. John has denounced Salome’s mother, Herodias saying that she is an evil woman. Salome is at the same time smitten by John and angered by his words. He seals his fate when she tries to lure him, and he rebukes her instead of succumbing to her charms. Later, during the sumptuous feast, Herod asks the beautiful Salome to dance for him. He tempts her by offering to give her anything she asks. She performs the seductive Dance of the Seven Veils. After its wild climax she demands the head of John the Baptist. Herod, knowing that it is wrong, offers her anything else, peacocks, gems. But he finally gives in and has John executed, then in a fit of remorse kills Salome as well.

The facts, though distorted from Mark’s account, do not change the effect of the story. The adultery, the evil, the lack of conscience, the weakness, the spirit of intrigue; all are in opposition to God. John is caught up in the vicious feuding of an evil family. It foreshadows for us the way Jesus gets caught up in the sinful power struggle that leads to his death.

Mark’s story of John’s death is incredibly sophisticated. The characters are truly complex. It tells far more about Herod, Herodias and her daughter than it does about John. The girl is young and impressionable, not yet capable of thinking for herself. Herodias has it in for John to a violent degree. Herod is a total contradiction. He likes to listen to what John has to say, but is condemned because of his adulterous relationship. He protects John, but then has him killed. He is boastful, but he is afraid. He is truly sorrowful for what he has done. Perhaps underneath it all he is a person honestly seeking the truth.

The real question for me all week has been is there a message in the gospel that is relevant for Christians living in the world today? And the answer is, most definitely! I know that it is said that religion and politics should not mix. However, that is impossible, at least in this instance. The reading is about justice. It invites us, above all, to have the courage to be truth tellers. There are consequences, even today, to bearing the prophetic voice. As Anglicans we love to play it safe in order not to offend. There is a sobering reality in the story that calls us to stop playing it safe and take a risk for our faith.
How many times has this story been lived out in our own era? It is a truly contemporary story. It could have been written about Oscar Romero, the voice of the voiceless in El Salvador. An all-powerful government martyred him as the church looked on helplessly.

It could have been written about Esquivel, a human rights worker in Argentina, the recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize in 1980. In spite of torture, he continued to witness to his faith and to help the families of those who disappeared, fight back against an oppressive regime.

It is the story of continuing terrorist acts throughout the world. Senseless killing and loss of life carried out over and over again in the name of God! Consider the current situation in the world. There is Syria. More than 400,000 people have died because of the Syrian conflict since 2011, with five million seeking refuge abroad and over six million displaced internally. There have been chemical attacks, civilian casualties, the withholding of humanitarian aid, starvation as a war tactic, torture and ill treatment. The list goes on, and countries around the world argue about their responsibility to help.

And what about the ecology? What really are we doing about global warming? Are we simply giving it lip service and hoping that the whole problem doesn’t affect us? How do we forge the link between human rights and environmental abuses?

We cannot forget our responsibility here at home. Canada enjoys a global reputation as a defender of human rights, yet we face longstanding human rights challenges, particularly when it comes to our indigenous peoples; inadequate access to safe drinking water, mercury poisoning, violence against Indigenous women and girls, treaty rights. We also need to grapple with human rights issues in relation to immigration. The United States is not the only country to hold children in immigration detention.

The story of Herod and the death of John the Baptist is shocking. But by far the most shocking thing about it is that someone who could have acted differently didn’t. That is also what is most shocking about the stories of violence that take place in our daily lives. For most of the time someone who could have acted differently didn’t, resulting in lives scarred irreparably or lost.

Any act of violence is shocking, all the more shocking when we see that violence is so commonplace. It has become an expression of frustration, which by its silence is condoned by society. We need to find a cure. There are many models put forth for violent behaviour. Movies and television are full of them. Can we replace such models of violence, such heroes, with models of peace, with our own heroes and role models? Can people like St. Francis, Mother Teresa, Martin Luther King and Jean Vanier be role models to us? Can we ask God for peace in our hearts, in our minds, in our souls?

The gospel is a call to each of us to seek for justice in the face of entrenched political power. We are called to fight against the violence that abounds in our world. We do not need to be part of it. We can overcome it. We can let God’s peace flourish within us. This can be a different world. Is not that the message of the cross? Jesus came to bring peace. Let us be instruments of peace.

Perhaps the answer lies after all in David’s dance of life. Is it time to put aside the balance sheet, the BCP and the BAS and simply kick up our heels and dance an alleluia to the giver of all good and perfect gifts? Amen

Proper 15, Year A

What is God’s Spirit Saying to the Church?

Readings: Genesis 25:19-34; Psalm 119:105-112; Romans 8:1-11; Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23

Jesus leaves the house and goes down to sit beside the sea. What a natural thing for him to be doing! It is something all of us like to do now and then, especially during the summer months. We leave everything behind, head out into nature and sit quietly at the lakeside. In Jesus case, more is going on than we have been told. He has faced some difficulties in his hometown. People think he is out of his mind. Even his disciples don’t always understand him.

Then the crowds gather. Jesus leaves his solitude, slips into a boat and addresses them from the shore. He tells a parable, a story to which people in this agrarian society can relate. As the story unfolds, they can picture it. They can picture themselves walking through the unploughed field, scattering the good grain they have kept from the last harvest. There is lots of seed. They simply scatter it. They know that some will land on the hardened soil that forms into paths through the fields. It may be lost. The wild thorns that grow up after the ploughing will choke some of the seed. There are stones just under the soil. You can never tell just where they are, out of sight until the field is ploughed. The seed that lands there will surely be wasted. Some seed even gets scattered to the very edge of the field. Birds scoop up some of the grain. But there is plenty of seed. You can afford to lose some. And some of it will produce even in the poorest soil. As he tells them about the sower they understand what is going on. They get it. That is, until he tells them about the bounty of the harvest.

They cannot even imagine producing that kind of a yield. With even a small harvest a farmer is able to put aside enough seed for the following year. What if the harvest was thirty times what was sown? “With that kind of yield,” they are thinking. “I could pay off my debt, put in irrigation ditches and erect a new barn. With sixty times what was sown I would be the richest person in the area. And if it were ninety percent, I would be able to export grain to other countries. I would own it all,” the dream continues.

Jesus simply ends the story there. “Let anyone with ears listen!” he says. They are all ears. Jesus is speaking to them.

But what is he really saying? What does he expect them to make of the story? The parable contrasts seed that never grows and bears fruit with seed that is fruitful. And yet somehow the fruitful seed makes up for the waste that has been involved. We might hear it as a story contrasting faith and unbelief. God’s realm will flourish with or without our help.
Matthew had ears to hear. He interpreted the story for us. He made it a parable about different degrees of faith. It is a very different interpretation, a pep talk to the early Christians. Some were excited by the faith initially, but did not understand. They were unable to receive the message. Some, no doubt, did not put down roots. They lasted for a time, but when troubles arose, persecution, suffering they lost faith. They may even have seen it as proof that there is no God. Some were lured away by worldly possessions. It was more important for them to get ahead in life. Or maybe they simply became too busy to deal with spiritual matters. They put other things first. “But” Matthew points out, “there were enough of those who were fruitful” in good works. Hearing was matched by understanding. They responded to God’s call and were open to God’s leading. They bore fruit.

And what about our own ears? Do we have ears to hear what God’s Spirit is saying to us today? What is the Spirit saying to the Church? What is the Spirit saying to the world? How are we to hear this parable, here in the 21st century in Port Hope? Do we get it? It isn't enough to hear. We have to understand. And even understanding is not enough. At its earliest level, the parable on Jesus’ lips may have been saying that despite all the setbacks they were facing, God had other ideas. God’s realm would come with all of its surprises. The rewards, the outcome, would be beyond imagination. To the uninformed that would have seemed stupid, just as ridiculous as scattering seed willy-nilly seems to us. Who could have imagined that a motely crew of fishermen, tax collectors and sinners could spawn a worldwide religion that would exist two thousand years later? It is absurd, isn’t it? It is Paul’s folly of the cross!

It is easy to look at the Church and see its shortcomings and failures, its lack of relevance. But perhaps that is our failure to recognize what the Church is. It is not our building, beautiful though it might be. We are the Church. That is why we need to meet Sunday after Sunday. How can we be renewed and go out into the world and be the Church if we are not sustained and nurtured by our faith? Are we in our lives and in our work in the world, bringing God's love to a world that needs to hear it? Are we committed to the faith? Are we sowing the seed lavishly? Or have we just given up. We look at the world and its problems. We look at our dwindling numbers and aging congregations and throw our hands into the air.

We need to remember that God has not given up. Faith is empty without action on our part. Church isn't about a building. It also isn't about insightful preachers having wonderful messages to share Sunday by Sunday. It is about the commitment of the Christian community. It is easy to listen to the parable of the sower and gloat about how responsive we are to God, to see ourselves as good seed landing on good soil. Many good churchgoing people are unresponsive to God's call. We have all sorts of excuses for our lack of faith. It isn't our fault. It is the way we were brought up. It is because of what happened to me in my childhood. It is God's fault for treating me this way.

We choose our own paths. The good news is that God is there to give us guidance and support. The church is there to nurture us on the way. But it requires action on our part. We who are privileged to hear need to respond. We don't need to find excuses. We just need to do what God calls us to do.
If we would believe the parable of the sower, although God does not seem to be at work in the world, although God does not seem to be in control, nevertheless, God's realm is coming. In its coming it will make up for all the failures and disappointments which have gone on before. We are assured of abundant success despite failure. We are privileged – we Christians – to be bearers of God's truth in the world. We bear a message of great hope. "Let anyone with ears listen!"

Proper 15, Year C

Who is My Neighbour?

Readings: Psalm 82; Colossians 1:1-14; Luke 10:25-37

A lawyer comes to test Jesus. “What should I do to be saved?” Jesus does not give him the answer. He seldom does. Instead, he turns tables on him, asking him, “What do you think you should do?” The lawyer gives the correct answer. “Love God and love your neighbour.” He knows the law. He says all the right things. He does all the right things. He lives a respectable life. He knows that he cannot be challenged on his knowledge of the law. But he wants to justify his actions, so he asks another trick question, “Who is my neighbour?”

Being a lawyer and an upstanding Jew, he knows the definition. Long before Christianity, Jewish tradition taught that love of neighbour was one of the great principles of the Torah. In fact Judaism’s love principle goes deeper than most people imagine. We Christians pride ourselves on the concept of loving our enemies, while the Torah gives examples of how to love do it. “When you come upon your enemy’s ox or donkey going astray, you shall bring it back. When you see the donkey of one who hates you lying under its burden and you would hold back from setting it free, you must help to set it free.”

Jewish people were conscious in every aspect of life of being the chosen people. If other Jews were also God’s chosen, then it was of the utmost importance to be a good neighbour, even to one whom you did not like. So yes, the lawyer understood the call to being a neighbour – to other Jews. So did Jesus.

And so Jesus tells a story. We know it well. A man travelling from Jerusalem to Jericho is robbed of everything and left for dead. Several people pass by him on that busy road, amongst them a priest and a Levite. Maybe they are in a hurry to reach Jericho before nightfall. Perhaps they fear being made unclean. Or they may fear being attacked themselves. For whatever reason, they don’t stop. But a Samaritan, an outcast of society, does stop. He cannot pass another human being in pain without wanting to relieve that pain. He takes care of the man, binding up his wounds. He takes him to an inn and looks after him as long as he can. He even gives the innkeeper enough money to care for the man until he is well. His are not simply Band-Aid solutions; he accepts the full responsibility for this person who is in desperate need.

In telling the story of the Good Samaritan, in even suggesting the possibility that a Samaritan could be good, Jesus is going beyond the biblical laws of the Old Testament that speak of treating other Jews as neighbours. And so he asks the lawyer one last question. “Who was a neighbour to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” He knows there is only answer. “Go and do likewise,” Jesus tells him.

For us 'Good Samaritan' means doing the loving thing. It is a common metaphor, so much a part of our culture that it is in the dictionary. It is defined in the Oxford dictionary as a “charitable or helpful person”. However, in Jesus' time it would have been a stretch. It would have been inconceivable to the lawyer to put those two words together in the same sentence. The Jews of Jesus' time did not consider the Samaritans to be a "good" people. They were considered to be heretical in their worship. The breach between the Jews and Samaritans went as deep as any controversy could go. It hit at every prejudice – race, religion, nationality; that in itself gives a powerful dimension to the story, communicating Jesus’ vision of justice. We do not hear the lawyer’s response. The story comes to an end. But truly the lawyer could not help but get the point that Jesus was making.

We get the point as well. Or do we? ‘Good Samaritan’ means ‘good neighbour’. We all know that. If someone does a great kindness to another we acknowledge that person as a ‘Good Samaritan’. Our province even has a ‘Good Samaritan’ act written to prevent people doing good deeds that go wrong from being prosecuted. We relate to the story. But we can all find legitimate excuses for acting in other ways, to keep from becoming involved.

And so we need to continue to ask, “Who is my neighbour?” What an important question it is in today’s context. We have Brexit in Britain focusing on its nationhood, but with its underlying current of racism. We have the Syrian refugee crisis in a world that puts its own needs first. I have to admit that our response as Canadians makes me very proud, but I know we have not gone far enough. We have our First Nations people who need justice on so many levels. In our society the real challenge is not the casual hand out. Most of us manage ‘charity’ without much thought. It is in confronting the system that creates need in the first place. It is becoming advocates for those who lack power. It is accepting the responsibility for past mistakes that occurred long before our time and allowing transformation to take place in the lives of innocent victims. It is in understanding what it means to be a neighbour.

We know our call to be neighbour, yet we still hear the questions asked and perhaps even think them ourselves. ‘If we open our borders to Syrian refugees what will happen to us? Will we lose jobs for Canadians? Will they just go back when life improves? Will they become terrorists?’ Or when it involves our First Nations people, ‘if we honour their treaties, how will it affect us? What will it cost us? Won’t they just squander our resources? Why don’t they just get over it?’

The story is a revealing and judgemental condemnation of much that goes under the name of Christianity. It makes many professions of faith seem less than authentic. As long as I say the right thing and belong to the right church, my faith cannot be proved or disproved. But this parable demands that I account for my actions. I cannot simply say, “I turn to Christ” without making a commitment to love neighbour as self. Who is my neighbour? Every human being is my neighbour, without regard to colour, background or social status. Jesus’ story of the Good Samaritan hits to the heart of the matter. The question remains: How will I put it into practice?

Proper 15, Year A

Let Anyone with Ears Listen!

Readings: Genesis 25:19-34; Psalm 119:105-112; Romans 8:1-11; Matthew 13:1-9, 16-23

When I was in my curacy I was given a simple but wonderful gift, a parishioner who gave me feedback on my sermons. This was not just a “nice sermon” kind of feedback; she had an uncanny ability to sum up the sermon in one sentence. That one sentence gave me insight into how my sermons were being heard. It was a good learning for a novice preacher. Sometimes I would say to myself, “She really got it!” Other times I would be puzzled by her interpretation of what I had said. In reflecting on the process I came to realize that the real message is not what is said, but what is heard.

I suspect that is why Jesus told parables such as the one in today’s Gospel. I also reasonably certain he did not intend his words to be interpreted on some grand scale. That is why I chose to read only the parable and not the explanation. Jesus’s story did not need anything more than the invitation that he issued “Let anyone with ears listen! Go off, think about the parable, let my words sink in, and then do something about it”, he is saying.

A large crowd has gathered to hear him speak. He gets into a boat and looks out the people. He sees many familiar faces amongst them. There are, of course, his disciples, his closest followers, the ones he has chosen. And there are others who stand out from the crowd. They are people who gather whenever he begins to speak. But there are many whom he has never noticed before. He recognizes the hunger and suffering that has brought them to this place. He sees the sense of hope in their eyes. "Let anyone with ears listen!" he says and they hear him. They know he is saying it to them.

He has much on his own mind – the difficulties in Nazareth, his hometown, people who think he is crazy, the constant harassment of the officials of the synagogue. All of these things he puts aside as he begins to speak. Knowing that even the disciples don't always understand he tells them a parable about a sower. He sees the farming people in the crowd relax. The picture he paints is familiar to them, part of their everyday life.

He talks of a sower sowing the seed. They can picture themselves walking through the unploughed field, scattering the good grain they have kept from the last harvest. There is lots of seed. They simply scatter it. They know some will land on the hardened soil that forms into paths through the fields. Some seed will get choked by the wild thorns that grow up again after the ploughing. There are stones just under the soil. You can never tell just where they are, out of sight until the field is ploughed. The seed that lands there will probably be wasted. But there is no way around it. Some seed even gets scattered to the very edge of the field. You cannot tell where the best places are to sow the seed. But there is plenty! You can afford to lose some. And some of it will produce even in the poorest soil.

How surprised they are to hear Jesus speak of the wonderful bounty of the harvest! Is it possible? Can you even imagine producing that kind of yield? Even when the harvest is small a farmer is able to put aside enough seed for the following year. What if the harvest was thirty times what was sown? A farmer could pay off debt, put in irrigation ditches and erect a new barn. With sixty times what was sown one would be the richest person in the area. And if it were ninety percent? Why with ninety percent a farmer would be able to export grain to other countries. He would own it all. What a dream! "Let anyone with ears listen!" They are all ears! Jesus is speaking to them.

For some time I had a little cottage up on Lake Simcoe. One day I watched my neighbour reseeding his lawn. He had a very small bag of seed that he was sprinkling here and there. This was not a well-manicured lawn that needed a little boost; there were more weeds than grass. I had read this week’s readings and was thinking in terms of the parable of the sower. I had to restrain myself from shouting out to him, “Get a huge bag of seed. Throw it everywhere on that lawn. Let anyone with ears listen!”

I feel like shouting out that same message this morning. Are we all ears? What is Jesus saying to us as individuals? Do we get it? Do we trust what we believe? I consider the rocks that I have encountered in my life, the roadblocks to being everything that God intends me to be. I think of the hard ground, the times when I wanted to shout at God “Are you even there?” I think of the weeds that I have allowed to grow up in my life, the failures and setbacks. And yet I know that despite all of those things God has been there for me, gracing my life, leading, guiding in ways that I was not even aware of until I looked back at where life had led. There were people who encouraged me in my life of faith. There were opportunities that opened up the way to do what God was calling me to do. There were ‘aha’ moments that allowed me glimpses of the glory of God so that I could hold on when life presented its twists and turns.

It is a message that I want to shout this morning. Are we all ears? What is Jesus saying to us? How do we, the Church – this church here in Oshawa, the churches in our Diocese, other denominations, churches throughout the world – hear what Jesus is saying? Do we get it or not? If we do get it why is the Church in such a state of decline? Do we sow enough seed? What kind of harvest do we expect?

What kind of harvest do you expect as a parish? This is a time of transition for you, a time of change. It is human nature not to embrace change, yet it can be a fruitful time in the life of a congregation. I see that in you. This is a congregation that knows how to look after one another, “the parish with a heart”. How do you turn that sense of belonging into something that extends into the community? How do you ensure that there are no poor in our parishes or neighbourhoods? How do you make it clear to all, both those in church and not, that something exciting is happening, growing and being produced? How do you become a committed community sharing the faith? What would happen if you managed all of that? People would be looking at you, saying, "Look at those Christians, how they love one another!"

What kind of harvest should we expect as the Christian Church in the world? How do we ensure that Christianity is a global force? How do we become a moral presence in all the countries of the world? How do we make our influence noticeable in politics, in education, in health care, and in economics? When we come together in solidarity we are able as a Church to do wonderful things. I have experienced it. A few years ago in an initiative largely undertaken by the World Council of Churches millions of people worldwide signed a document asking the G7 nations of the world to forgive debt. Six hundred thousand of them were Canadians, most of them from the Christian community. The most powerful nations in the world took note and listened. They were able, knowing that they had the backing of so many people in their own countries, to forgive enormous debts of the poorest nations of the world. But it was only a drop in the bucket. How much more we could accomplish! "Let anyone with ears listen!"

If we would believe the parable of the sower, although God does not seem to be at work in the world, although God does not seem to be in control, nevertheless, God's realm is coming. In its coming it will make up for all the failures and disappointments which have gone on before. We are assured of abundant success despite failure. We are privileged, graced by God, we Christians, to be bearers of God's truth in the world. We bear a message of great hope. "Let anyone with ears listen!"

Proper 15, Year C

The Road from Jerusalem to Jericho

Readings: Amos 7:1-17; Psalm 82; Colossians 1:1-14; Luke 10:25-37

A lawyer comes to test Jesus. “What should I do to be saved?” Jesus does not give him the answer. He seldom does. Instead, he turns tables on him, asking him, “What do you think you should do?” The lawyer gives the correct answer. “Love God and love your neighbour.” He knows the law. He says all the right things. He does all the right things. He lives a respectable life. He knows that he cannot be challenged on his knowledge of the law. But he wants to justify his actions, so he asks another trick question, “Who is my neighbour?”

Jesus responds, but not in the way we might expect. He does not argue with him about the law. He does not write a pastoral letter. He does not form a committee to talk about the issue. He does not give a theological reflection on the subject. He tells a story that hits home.

A man travelling from Jerusalem to Jericho is robbed of everything and left for dead. Several people pass by him on that busy road, amongst them a priest and a Levite. Maybe they are in a hurry to reach Jericho before nightfall. Perhaps they fear being made unclean. Or they may fear being attacked themselves. For whatever reason, they don’t stop. But a Samaritan, an outcast of society, does stop. He cannot pass another human being in pain without wanting to relieve that pain. He takes care of the man, binding up his wounds. He takes him to an inn and looks after him as long as he can. He gives the innkeeper enough money to care for the man until he is well. His are not simply band-aid solutions; he accepts the responsibility for this person who is in desperate need.

Jesus asks the lawyer one last question. “Who was a neighbour to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” He knows there is only answer. “Go and do likewise,” Jesus tells him.

I suspect the lawyer was expecting an argument from Jesus, something he could really sink his teeth into. He is a person looking for a debate. And what Jesus gives him is an opportunity to judge himself. Hopefully he discovered that if we are motivated by law rather than love we are robbing others of real justice.

The story of the Good Samaritan is one that we all know only too well. But I wonder, how many of us have truly heard the story? How many of us have found ourselves on the road from Jerusalem to Jericho? What was our response? Did we respond out of love?

In a university course, a teacher once the class if they had ever heard the story of the Good Samaritan. They all looked at her incredulously. Of course they had heard the story. In our society we call people who help other people “Good Samaritans”. But she went on. “I am not asking if you have listened to the story. I am asking if you have ever heard the story.”

One young woman began to sob. “I know exactly what it you mean,” she said. I was just a child of seven at the time. My father was driving me to the beach to join the rest of the family at the start of the summer holidays. As we were driving along the highway my father had a heart attack. He managed to pull the car over to the side of the highway and told me to try to get help. I got out, waved my arms frantically, but no one on that busy highway would stop.”

“After what seems ages, someone finally stopped to find out what was the matter. He alerted the police, but by the time help arrived my father had died. He was only thirty-four years old.”

Those listening to her story vented their anger and resentment at the motorists who passed by, finding it incomprehensible. One person, however, piped up and said, “I can understand it totally.” He related his story.

“One cold winter night, very late, just as I was about to go to bed, there was a knock at my front door. It was a stranger looking for a place to spend the night. He was travelling back to university, had run out of money and was hitch-hiking. It had not gone well. He needed a place to sleep for the night.”

He went on. “I looked him over. He sounded genuine, but I felt angry at him for not being better prepared. I found every reason in the book not to help him. My own safety, his lack of foresight! I closed the door on him. I watched him disappear into the night. I admire the person who acted. He was a real hero. I wish I had.”

A third person began to relate her story. “You don’t feel like a hero when it happens. I was in my apartment one evening when there was a knock on the door. My neighbour from the next apartment was there holding the limp body of her young child. She was hysterical and had no idea what to do. I took the child in my arms, pointed to the phone and told her to call 911. I proceeded to do mouth to mouth on the little one. An ambulance arrived a short time later. One of the attendants said that if I had not acted the child would surely have died. Mother and child were taken to the hospital. She made a full recovery. I was lauded as a hero, but honestly, I just did what I had learned in my First Aid course.”

Who heard the story? They all did.

There have been many stories this past week from the town of Lac Megantic of people who heard the story and responded as neighbour to neighbour. Crisis so often brings out the best in neighbours. But it should not take a crisis.

So the question remains for us; dol we hear the story? What will we do to put Jesus’ vision of justice into practice in our world? How do we offer gestures of kindness to others? This passage is a revealing and judgemental condemnation of much that passes itself as Christian. It makes many professions of faith seem less than authentic. If we take it seriously, we can no longer simply say the right words or belong to the right church. The parable demands that we account for our actions. We cannot say, "I turn to Christ" without making a commitment to love God and to love neighbour.

Who is my neighbour? Is my neighbour the one who lives next door to me? Is it others who are like me, who share my heritage, my interests? The fact is that every human being is my neighbour. It can have nothing to do with colour, background or social status. It cannot have to do with how clean the person is. It cannot have to do with how well they speak. It must simply be the one who needs my help.

Jesus knew what it meant to be a neighbour. He was tortured, stripped and left in a ditch to die. Do we bear the marks of the wounded Christ in our lives? Are we neighbours to the wounded in our society? Those wounded by life, those burdened with cares, poverty, sickness and despair? Do we know who is our neighbour? Do our actions show that we know? What impact is our congregation having on the community around us? Those are questions we need to be asking.

A teacher once asked his pupils, "How do you know when night ends and day begins?"

One student answered, "You know that night ends and day begins when you can look into the distance and know which animal is your dog, and which is your sheep."

"That is a good answer," the teacher said, "but it is not my answer."

"You know that night ends and day begins," another student said, "when light falls on the leaves and you can see whether it is a maple or an oak."

"That too is a good answer," the teacher said, "but it is not my answer."

"What is you answer, teacher?" they asked.

"When you look into the eyes of a human being and see a brother or sister you know that it is morning. If you cannot see a sister or brother you will know that it will always be night."

Let us look in the face of our neighbour and see Christ. Amen.