Monday, July 11, 2016

July 10, 2016 Sermon: "The $11 Letter"

Stephen Baldwin
NT: Luke 10.25-37
The $11 Letter

            Parables are meant to shock.  To challenge.  To make you say hmmmm.  Which makes it hard when we’ve heard them all our lives, a hundred times.  Everybody knows the story of the good Samaritan.  And everybody knows what it means, right?  Be kind even to people you don’t know. 
            It’s even become part of our everyday language.  We talk about good Samaritans who found our wallet or helped us change a tire.  We love a good good Samaritan story, don’t we?  They make us feel good.  Deep down inside. 
            But parables…are meant to shock.  To disturb.  To push the boundaries.  What was so shocking about this parable was who did the good deed.  Jews hated Samaritans.  Samaritans hated Jews.  They viewed one another as less than human.  So Jesus tells a room full of Jews a story about a Samaritan who does a good thing.  Not only does he help the man dying on the road when the people you would expect to do that—the priest and the Levite refuse to—but he pays for the man to have shelter…and he goes even further saying he will pay any other bills the man incurs while he recovers.  And then there’s the real kicker.  Jesus asks the Jewish lawyer who wants to know who his neighbor is, “Who showed mercy?” 
            “The Samaritan.” 
            Jesus affirms that reply.  “Yes, be like him.”  Sometimes we’ve heard the story so many times the shock is lost on us.  Until we are in need of mercy, as we have been the last two-plus weeks.  And then we are reminded.    
You all could probably tell a few good Samaritan stories, couldn’t you?  People who you’d never seen before to help clean your house.  Old friends from days gone by who sent supplies or donations to help people.  Did you know we had a workcamp from NC that already comes twice a year but they came a third time on a day’s notice to do flood relief? I’ve got one more story for you. Some of you may have already heard it, but some things bear repeating. 
            One day this week I opened the mail and found a letter from a nine year old boy from Morgantown.  His name is Daishon Kelly.  I’ve never met him before.  His mom read some of my online updates on the flooding, shared them with him, and he decided to write me a letter.  (Pictured below.)  

            Now, I don’t cry often, because I’m the ugliest crier you’ve ever seen.  But that letter made me cry like a baby.  He included his $11 allowance, which he said was all he had.  It turns out that his life is full of challenges of his own.  His father died when he was very young.  He has a type of juvenile arthritis that sometimes makes it hard to get out of bed in the morning.  But when he saw pictures of flooding here in Greenbrier County, he took out his wallet, picked up his $11 allowance, and sent it to our church to help people who are hurting. 
            Is that a good Samaritan story?  You better believe it is.  But not for the reason you might think.  Did the boy show kindness and selflessness to people he didn’t know?  You bet he did.  But the real reason it’s a good Samaritan story is because he is the last person you would expect to send everything he had to help put this community back together.  He’s a nine year old child with $11 to his name, and I hear Jesus asking us, “Who showed mercy?”
            Daishon did. 

            “Yes, go and be like him.”  Parables are meant to shock.  To challenge.  To make you say hmmm.  The parable of the good Samaritan reminds us that what makes us good is what we are willing to do for those who can do nothing for us in return.  It teaches us that mercy is given.  It shows us that when someone inspires that kind of goodness, it grows…exponentially.  And a simple letter with $11 inside from a child we don’t even know becomes the cornerstone of rebuilding an entire community.  Amen?  Amen.  

1 comment:

krm said...

I love it that you are putting the text of the sermons on the web page! I can read it before I have decided that I want to read it. I am so much more likely to read it than to click on a link, and a hundred times more likely to read it than to listen to it. Thanks for your persistence in trying new things to make the word available to all of us.

Kay