LITMIR.BIZ

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      She smiled at their enjoyment of that one. “I promise that today’s sermon is more than hot air, and I do have something important to say. So let’s move back to the scripture. Our lawyer in this ancient crowd was something of a sneaky fellow, and he was anxious to test Jesus. Wanting to get his future signed, sealed and delivered, he asked Jesus what he had to do to inherit eternal life.”

      She looked out and raised a finger. “Well, be honest, isn’t that what you would have asked?” She waved her hand. “Here was your chance to have the entire purpose of existence laid out in front of you. But Jesus never gave simple answers. Instead he asked the lawyer for his own opinion, and the man said that he was required to love God with all his heart, soul and might, and also love his neighbor as himself.

      “Jesus agreed he was correct, so therefore he needed to go and do exactly that.”

      She paused. “Would you have known what to do?”

      She watched for heads nodding or shaking before she moved on. “Maybe that would have been the end if the lawyer hadn’t been such an inquiring sort, but then he stuck it to Jesus, which I think was his intention all along. He asked exactly who Jesus would consider to be his neighbor. Do you know what you would have said?”

      Again she paused, wanting them to really think about their answers. “My neighbor is everyone who lives beside, behind and in front of me? Or possibly your definition would be broader. Your neighbor is everyone on your street, or in your life, perhaps even, if you’re feeling really generous, some people you don’t like.”

      She waited a moment, then went on. “Jesus loved to tell stories, so in answer he replied by telling the now-familiar tale of a man who, after leaving Jerusalem to head to Jericho, was attacked and robbed by thieves and left bleeding by the roadside. The story doesn’t actually say this man was a Jew, although I think perhaps that was assumed. We do, however, know what happened to him.

      “As our traveler lay there, in the worst possible need of assistance, a priest passed by, perhaps, like me, somebody charged with the spiritual health of his followers. Do you think the priest stopped to assist the traveler?”

      She waited for the shaking of heads. “Sadly no. Instead he crossed the road, in a hurry to get somewhere else and most likely a bit afraid that if he did stop, he might be courting trouble. Maybe he had a council meeting or a crisis that seemed more important. And who wants to court trouble when it’s easier just to continue on our way?”

      She continued on, talking next about the Levite, a man charged with both religious and political duties, who appeared after the priest and followed the same course.

      “And finally comes the Samaritan. Since we aren’t living in ancient Israel let’s brush up on the Samaritans and why they were so disliked. One theory claims the Samaritans were the descendants of Joseph, one of the sons of Jacob, while the Jews were the descendants of another brother, Judah. So even though Samaritans and Jews may have been related, we know that family ties don’t always stand the test of time. Look at the Palestinians and the Jews today. Look at the Shiites and the Sunnis or the Catholics and the Protestants in places like Northern Ireland.”

      As she let that sink in for a moment, a movement in the back of the sanctuary caught her eye. People came and went during services. Sometimes late arrivals slipped into pews in the back, and occasionally, during her more controversial sermons, people also slipped out, never to be seen again.

      She doubted she had yet reached that tipping point today, and this time she didn’t really expect an exodus, just some pointed questions. As she’d guessed, the movement was caused by a late arrival.

      The arrival was Shiloh, dressed in faded jeans and a thin T-shirt, who stood in the aisle at the back and gazed around, as if unsure what to do. Just as Analiese was afraid she would turn and leave, Shiloh spotted an empty space in a nearby pew, climbing over other churchgoers to get there and disappearing from sight behind a row of taller men.

      In that instant Analiese reconsidered her sermon, but she really had no choice now but to finish it.

      She drew herself up a little taller. “Over the centuries the histories of these close relatives diverged, and eventually each group believed that they alone possessed the truth and all the rights that go with it. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? Today aren’t too many people sure they know exactly what’s right for everybody else?

      “So what would you expect a Samaritan to do, coming upon a man, most probably a Jew, bleeding by the side of the road? Laugh? Taunt him? Even, perhaps, put the man out of his misery and consider his day well spent?”

      She paused. “Of course, you would be wrong.”

      She ended the story, explaining that the Samaritan, despite every historical and political reason not to, helped the stranger, binding his wounds, even finding him lodging and paying for it himself so that the injured man could recover.

      “And so the story of the Good Samaritan ends. It’s a great tale with a happily-ever-after, isn’t it? But the most powerful part comes now. Because Jesus then asked the lawyer which of the three men who came upon the roadside victim acted as a true neighbor. Of course the lawyer had no choice but to answer, ‘the one who had mercy.’”

      She let that sink in a moment before she went on. “Luke 10, verse 37, ends this way.” She opened her Bible again and read the final words, although she knew them well. “Jesus told him, ‘Go and do likewise.’”

      She closed her Bible once more and looked out over the congregation. “I’ve told you a story that Jesus left us to ponder. Did this event take place?” She shrugged. “The story of the Good Samaritan is a parable, which means in many ways it’s a riddle for us to solve. Jesus told these stories to make us reconsider the way we live, to dig for meaning so we would remember more clearly. Jews of that time were used to parables. They understood that parables have multiple meanings and are not meant to be taken literally, because that would diminish their worth. We aren’t supposed to simply be happy the traveler was finally safe. We’re supposed to consider how he was saved, by whom and why it was important.”

      She let her gaze drift over the congregation and saw, as she had expected, some puzzled faces. “You might be wondering why I chose this story on this particular day, when speaking on gratitude might have been more pleasant and certainly less challenging for Thanksgiving weekend. So let me tell you another story. Mine is not a parable. It happened this weekend right here in our church.”

      She took a breath and began to tell the story of the Fowler family. She avoided as many personal details as she could, partly because Shiloh was sitting in the congregation and partly because that had been her intention all along. But she knew she had to make certain the congregation understand how desperate the Fowlers were.

      “I want you to see that as your minister I made the initial decision to invite this family to stay overnight in the parish house apartment where our sexton and his family used to live. I didn’t have time to consult with anyone on the council. I also want you to know that I am not apologizing, because I would do it again, exactly the same way.”

      She paused—for the last time, she hoped—to make sure they heard the next sentences clearly. “I did not want to be the priest in today’s parable. I wanted to be the Samaritan. I still do.

      “The next morning our council executive committee agreed to allow the Fowler family to continue living in the apartment for two weeks while I try to find them more permanent housing and perhaps help with other issues. Some of you may have expertise that can help them settle into our community, and any assistance will be warmly welcomed.”

      She moved on to statistics about homelessness, both nationwide and locally, particularly homeless families. Then she talked a little about the rally in which she had participated.

      “Here’s what I know. It’s easy to go to rallies, even to stand on the stage and exhort a crowd to do their part. It’s easy to throw money at a problem and think we’ve done enough. But putting ourselves in the place of people just like us, who,

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