Luke 10:23-37
Trinity 13
✠ In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit ✠
When God made the world, everything was rightly ordered and good. There was no decay or death, there was no corruption or heartache or conflict or violence. With man as God’s image-bearer, appointed to serve as the overseer and steward of the world, creation was in harmony.
So what happened? The usual answer we give is that man brought evil into the world through sin. And that is true. Romans 5 clearly says. “Sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin, and so death spread to all because all sinned.” However, it’s not only that something was done by man but also that something was done to man. That’s why many early Christian fathers describe the fall of humanity with words like what we have in today’s parable: man was robbed and wounded.
Satan brutally attacked man with his temptation; he lured him to step outside of the protection of God words. And man, thinking in his pride that he could be like God, exposed himself to a vicious assault by the devil which broke the image of God in him and robbed humanity of its glory. The steward of creation, man, was now critically wounded; and that in turn threw the whole world into disarray. Creation’s harmony was disrupted. If we think of harmony in musical terms, what we experience now is dissonance, clashing notes. The melody line which should be singing the divine words of life is now all off and out of tune. The once beautiful music now grates on our ears. And it’s not as if you can just run away from it and escape it; for we bring the disharmony with us. Unresolved, it drives us to madness. This is why we see a world that is filled with craziness and corruption and disorder. Both man and creation lie wounded. The Greek word for those wounds in today’s Gospel is τραύματα, trauma.
PTSD—post-traumatic stress disorder—may be a relatively new term, but the concept is ancient. Just as we are individually damaged by harmful experiences, so the entire fallen world is damaged and the whole human race traumatized. I know some of you have experienced horrible things, where other people have betrayed you, or told lies about you; or your body and spirit have been injured by various other kinds of wounds. It can take a long time to heal; usually it requires the care of others. Every one of us needs someone outside of ourselves, someone with great compassion, to care for us and heal us.
All of this is what is depicted in today’s Gospel parable, where you have a man journeying down from Jerusalem. Unlike many other parables, we don’t really know anything about him. He is not a Pharisee or a tax collector or a landowner or a vineyard worker or a farmer sowing seed. He is simply aνθρωπός, the Greek term for man, a human being–the same word used in Genesis, “God created man in His own image.” This man travels away from Jerusalem, the place of God’s temple presence. Note here how he left the place of God and journeyed to Jericho, a city legendary for its wickedness. In the Old Testament, you recall, Jericho is the city God destroyed. It was not supposed to be rebuilt. In the parable, then, the journey is one going away from God toward evil; a man is “going down” the parable says. The human race in its prideful vanity descends and falls–and that includes us. Man falls among demonic thieves–sin and Satan and the grave–who plunder him. His righteousness is stripped away; his dignity and his goods are stripped away. He is beaten and traumatized and put to shame.
Sometimes our wounds are at the hands of others; sometimes they’re self-inflicted. But there mankind is, in the ditch, left to rot. Now along come two other men. They see the carnage, and scurry by. “What uncaring jerks!” we might think. But they are not entirely the villains we might at first make them out to be. The priest and Levite do not help because legally they cannot help. In order to fulfill their temple duties, they are required by the Law not to touch blood. So these characters are meant to symbolize the Law for us. The Law shows us our sin and how much we need a Savior. The Law sees and exposes the trauma, but it cannot do anything to heal it. The Law is like an MRI or an X-ray machine. It diagnoses; it reveals what is wrong. But it cannot repair the damage. A helping and healing hand is needed.
And that is precisely what arrives in the person of the Good Samaritan. This stranger, this often despised outsider, embraces the wounded man in his fallenness. The Samaritan is there for him. He doesn’t wear a mask or put on latex gloves. He doesn’t shield Himself from this man’s degradation or keep His distance from the trauma. Instead, He joins the fallen man in the ditch.
The Good Samaritan takes oil and wine and pours them on medicinally. This Outsider is a healer. He does what the Law—the priest and Levite—could not. He binds the wounds, the τραύματα, and anoints them with the healing medicine of His mercy. Man is traumatized, paralyzed and fearful. But the Good Samaritan, the Great Physician overcomes this by doing the unexpected and putting the man on His own donkey. For Jesus has come to bear all of your burdens and carry them to the cross where they are dealt and with removed from you forever. He has come to take your wounds and your trauma as His own. He Himself was stripped and beaten and whipped until He bled, for you. His dignity and even His very life was robbed from Him. But by the hellish trauma He endured on Good Friday, by His bloody wounds, you are healed.
The Samaritan brings the man to an inn, which becomes his hospital. The Lord Jesus brings you to the church, the infirmary, where the wounds of sin can be ministered to with the medicine of the Gospel. You are safe here. You can rest and mend here. There is peace for you here in Christ. The Samaritan promises payment for all future medical expenses–no deductible, nothing out of pocket. This is no rationed care, where the earliest appointment you can get is in two months. It is abundant care and complete coverage, with the sure outcome of full restoration. Jesus has covered it all for you. And just as the Samaritan promised to return, Jesus is surely coming back to give you to share fully in His bodily resurrection.
So don’t be like the lawyer at the beginning of today’s Gospel. Don’t be looking for loopholes in God’s Law in a vain attempt to gain eternal life for yourself. It’s not as if you can fulfill the clauses of a divine contract and get a heavenly payout. Give up trying to justify yourself. Instead, acknowledge that you are the man in the ditch and that you can’t get yourself out by your own efforts. Admit that you need someone from the outside to come and rescue you. And above all, know and believe that Jesus is that one. He came down from the City of God to bind up your wounds and heal your trauma. Oil in the Bible is for anointing; it goes with Baptism, which is the anointing Jesus instituted to give you His life-giving Spirit. Wine is for gladness; it goes with the Supper Jesus instituted for your cleansing and forgiveness to bring you joy. The Sacramental life of the Church is where Jesus keeps giving Himself to you, lifting you up, healing you from the trauma of sin. Only He can justify you and make you righteous. Only He brings harmony and orders things rightly again.
And finally, don’t overlook the words of our Lord where He says, “Go and do likewise.” The one who is forgiven much loves much. The one who is blessed with coins is called to use those coins for the work of this hospital, the church. And there are people all around you out there who have been traumatized. They need your good works. They need mercy, just as you need it. Be merciful, just as you have received mercy. Be generous, just as you have received the Lord’s generosity. Be His instrument in setting things right. You’ve been lifted up from the ditch. Don’t return to the filth. For in Jesus you are washed, you are justified, you are holy.
✠ In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit ✠
(This sermon is adapted from a homily by the Rev. Christopher Esget.)