A pitiful, stray dog on the side of an Alabama country road reminds us that the parable of the Good Samaritan isn’t about being a do-gooder or a nice guy. The Good Samaritan is a story about radical mercy, love and action. Active love vs. benign neglect. It’s about being a neighbor in the truest sense, and coming near.

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All the paths of the Lord are love and faithfulness
to those who keep his covenant and testimonies. Psalm 25:9
A few years ago on a hot summer afternoon kind of like the ones we’ve been having here lately, David and I were out driving on one of the country roads near our home in Alabama.
Sort of an afternoon ritual we followed after work and before supper. The road was deserted and lonely.
As we meandered along in our Dodge Ram 4X4 truck, a movement in the weeds on the other side of the road caught our eyes.
My instinct – ever cautious – was for us to continue safely on our way. But David slowed the truck, turned around, and crossed over to the opposite shoulder of the road.
We inched toward the tall weeds. There it was again – a funny waggle of the weeds – and suddenly we saw it – a small, furry, sad-looking canine, head peering through the high grass, weary brown eyes fixed on ours.
Maybe a unlikely mix between a Chihuahua and a Pit Bull.
Clearly frightened, old, and malnourished, missing most of its upper teeth, limping, infested with mange.
No collar, of course. For all we knew the little thing could have rabies.
But we knew what we had to do. We found an old towel in the back of the truck, swaddled the haggard little dog tightly, took him home, and cleaned him up as best we could. We made a pen in our back yard, offered him water and soft dog food. We considered naming our little adoptee “Roadside” – but instead we settled on “Least” instead. You know, as in: Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these….
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But how in heaven’s name does a story of a roadside rescue of a pitiful stray dog speak to today’s Gospel? And perhaps even more importantly this particular Sunday morning, how does today’s Gospel – Jesus’ parable of the Good Samaritan – speak to us – as we wrestle with the grief, outrage, and despair of the events of the past ten days in Texas?
So many “Why?”s left unanswered. Where is the Good News in it all?
Well, one thing to consider is that the Parable of the Good Samaritan is SO familiar that it can lose much of its stunning “radicality.”
I Googled Good Samaritan the other night and found 306,000 different entries – everything from Hospitals, to Inns, to Hospices, to Volunteers, to a switch for car head lights, to legislative acts, to…..Good Samaritan Ointment!! ☺
Along with the Parable of the Prodigal Son, today’s parable is arguably the one most familiar to Christians – and even to non-Christians.
But you see, this parable is not simply about being “good,” or about offering “first aid” to someone, or even about simply being neighborly to everyone.
No, this story is about risk and danger, about overcoming fear, about being willing to change dramatically one’s directions for the sake of another in need.
As in “Neighborly – from the Old English come nigh/come near.”
It is about doing in the extreme.
We read that the Samaritan went to the man, bandaged him, poured oil and wine on him, lifted him onto his own animal, brought him to an inn, took care of him all night, paid for his continued care, enlisted the help of the confused innkeeper, came back the next day and paid the rest of the 1st century hospital bill.
This, my friends, is not about being a do-gooder nice guy.
It is about radical mercy and love IN ACTION.
The Levite and the priest – respectable professional religious leaders and bound by their faith and positions to law and duty – are actually at no real fault here.
They simply “pass by.”
But what a difference in verbs – “pass by” versus what – “CAME NEAR. “ Active loving versus benign neglect.
CAME NEAR – the Samaritan crossed over to where the beaten man lay. Eye contact – probably.
Heart contact – for sure. “He was moved with pity,” we read.
The Greek word means being moved from the depths of his being.
As the Samaritan comes near the wounded man, with significant risk to himself, he makes himself a neighbor.
He attends to – pays attention to – the man’s immediate and desperate needs.
No tentative “glancing.” But instead a deep seeing which could only have happened by a nearness/proximity that the Samaritan himself creates.
In that radical openness to the other, differences (ethnicities, labels, prejudices, stereotypes) melt away into a shared humanity – a man….and the one who.
So….coming near. Reaching out fearlessly. Investing oneself generously.
Loving radically and recklessly.
Jesus says – to the lawyer and to us all these centuries later – “Go and do likewise.”
Show me your ways, O Lord; and teach me your paths.
Lead me in your truth and teach me. Psalm 25:3-4a
It seems to me that today the word neighbor (like the word love, frankly) has been domesticated and tamed.
TV and social media all seem to make instant “neighbors” of us all.
And indeed, we are more aware than ever of our national “neighborhood” and our global “community.”
That is not necessarily a bad thing. We are on so many levels “connected.”
But does the word “neighbor” simply conjure up the safety of suburbia with its picket fences and sidewalks? Home alarm systems and Neighborhood Watch signs? Gated communities?
What would it mean for US to truly COME NEAR folks that are in need, that are hurting, that are other from us?
Folks with skin a different color, who practice a different religion or an altogether different faith, or none at all?
Folks who are differently able-ed?
Folks who are of a different political persuasion?
What would it mean for us to put our own selves in truly vulnerable positions as we come near, reach out with healing hands and hearts, and advocate for those who are misunderstood or marginalized – and who have been so for as long as they can remember?
Coming near – one might even make a new verb – neighboring – thus truly loving those in need.
Those in our own safe backyards and those half a county or a continent or a world away.
That, my brothers and sisters, is at the heart of Christian social witness – and that is at the heart of the Gospel and at the heart of the Good News of the Kingdom.
You know what – I think it all boils down to LOVE – which is where the whole interchange between Jesus and the lawyer began isn’t it?
Remember how the story began? With the Summary of the Law.
Love of God and love of Neighbor.
And now we know the “rest of the story,” don’t we?
Love can – and WILL – conquer all.
Jesus showed us what love can do.
From the cross as he was being executed for the courage to stand up in
love and solidarity for the “least of these” and for the whole world
from that cross, Jesus says, “Father forgive them,
for they know not what they do.”
Jesus literally embodies God “coming near” to humanity in the Incarnation.
Jesus was willing to cross over to the other side of the road, kneel down and reach out to this hurting and bruised world, bind our wounds, and
lead us home together. Radical love and limitless mercy.
Or as Grace’s own mission statement says:
We are Grace, grounded in faith and relentless in compassion.
Friends, these are life-changing and world-changing times in which we live. We need each other. We can’t make it alone.
Well, to conclude: in case you are wondering about David’s and my little “Least” from all those years ago.
Sadly this little creature’s time on earth ended the Monday after we rescued him.
Our veterinarian confirmed our suspicions that Least was indeed quite ill and quite old. David and I decided to return Least to his Creator.
Needless to say, tears were shed. That little strange and straggly stray had won over our hearts in three short days.
For me, that roadside rescue experience was a powerful example of what “coming near” may mean.
How it may change US.
For Least will always be an icon to me of all God’s creatures to whom we are called to show mercy and grace with hands-on-love.
“In as much as ye have done it unto one of
the least of these, ye have done it unto me.”
May God continue to grant us, following the example of our Supreme Healer Jesus Christ, the courage and the commitment and the grace to cross the road, to come near, to show mercy, and to offer all in sacrificial love for others.
All the paths of the Lord are love and faithfulness
to those who keep his covenant and his testimonies.
Let us GO and DO likewise. AMEN.
The Rev. Betsy Jennings Powell
Proper 10 Year C 2025
Grace Episcopal Church