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Jump Start # 1951

Jump Start # 1951

Luke 10:37 “And Jesus said to him, ‘Go and do the same.”

Yesterday in our Jump Starts, I wrote about how a person ought to think about himself. Balance is the key. Not too highly nor too lowly. The idea of balance stuck with me. There are other “balance” concepts in our Bible. One of the big ones is the balance between thinking and doing.

 

Our verse today is one of the “doing” verses in the Bible. It ends the parable of the good Samaritan. Jesus told this to a man who wanted to justify himself by asking, “Who is my neighbor?” He may have thought he was cute by asking that. Jesus nailed it. Anyone and everyone is my neighbor. The Samaritan didn’t know the reason why the man was injured. He didn’t know the name of the injured man. He saw that he could make a difference and help someone, so he did.

 

As this ends, Jesus says “go and do the same.” He didn’t say, “Go and teach this,” which we do. But more importantly, is to go and DO the same. There is a balance between our thinking and our doing. We can be strong on thinking but shy on the doing part. We can think and talk about all the things that need to be done, but at the end of the day, are we doing any of those things.

 

You remember in the judgment parables, found in Matthew 25, Jesus said I was hungry, naked and in prison. Those who were punished received the justice because they didn’t do anything. They didn’t feed the hungry. They didn’t clothe the naked. They didn’t visit the one in prison. Before this, we find the parable of the talents. The one talent man was punished because he didn’t do anything. He buried the master’s talent in the ground. We also remember in Galatians, that Paul said, “as we have opportunity us to DO good to all, especially the household of faith.” There is that doing part.

 

It seems that in the past few years we’ve turned Christianity from a blue-collar, roll up your sleeves, get things done religion into a white-collar thinking religion. We think and share good thoughts in Bible classes. We preach good thoughts in sermons. We are strong on the thinking side of things. We think about plans. We think about the future. We think about what needs to be done. A whole lot of thinking. But the doing part sometimes fails. We hear about someone needing food in the congregation. We think about taking some, but we just don’t get around to it. We hear about someone in the hospital. We think about sending a card. Somehow, we just don’t get around to it. Good thoughts. Good intentions. But without the “doing part,” there is no encouragement, no help, no touches that make a difference.

 

All of this comes back to balance. Without the thinking part, there won’t be any doing. But if all we do is think, then nothing gets done. The best plays talked about in the huddle won’t score any touchdowns unless the team gets out there and executes the play. We can spend so long in the huddle, that the game ends and we’ve never gotten anything done.

 

Our schedules have a lot to do with this. It’s easy to lay in bed and think about what I need to do. But when morning comes and we hit the floor running and there are interruptions and all kinds of stuff going on, we forget. We were going to send a card, but we’re out of stamps. We were going to make some cookies, but I’m low on the ingredients. And we put it off for another day. Then another day. Then it gets to the point that it’s too late. Sometimes the guilt gets too us so much that we say to a person, “I was going to send you a card, but…” But, we never did.

 

Jesus said, “go and do the same.” Those in large congregations can feel overwhelmed. There is always someone sick, someone having a baby, someone discouraged, someone new, someone getting married. There are funerals. There are needs, needs and needs. It can be so much that a person just does nothing. We can’t do that. You may not be able to make every shower, take care of every need, but you can do what you can. Go and do—is what Jesus said.

 

I wonder if we’ve gotten to the place where we view the judgment as a final test. If I can know all the right answers, I will get to go to Heaven. Ask me to name the apostles. Got it. Ask me to name to books of the Bible in order. Got it. Ask me to find the Jordan River on a map. Got it. But the judgment parables in Matthew 25, the talents and taking care of needs are about what one does. It’s not about having all the right answers. So, we have studied and studied and filled out our questions on the Bible class papers and we know all the answers, but what are we doing?

 

It’s time we took seriously this idea of balance. Thinking good thoughts is great. But what are we doing? People don’t know what you are thinking. Good thoughts doesn’t help a family that needs food because mama is in the hospital. Good thoughts doesn’t encourage the person who has gone through some rough storms in his life. Good thoughts won’t strengthen a church. Saying, “I’m praying for you,” is powerful, if you actually pray. But next time, “I’m praying for you, AND I’m bringing you some food.” Can’t cook? Order out some food and take it to them.

 

What works for me is that when I think of things I ought to do, I try to do it right then. I make a list. I see it on my desk. Write that card. Call that person. Drop by and spend some time with the person in the hospital. My daughter, when she was little, often said, “Do it, NOW.” And the way she said “Now,” made the whole family jump. That’s the idea. Do it, and do it now. This will certainly make you rearrange your schedule. It’s often not at a good time. But if we wait until we are ready, then the need may no longer be there.

 

Balance—thinking and doing. Both are important. Both need to be done. So roll up those sleeves of yours and get doing what you know you ought to do today.

 

Do it NOW!

 

Roger

 

08

Jump Start # 1512

Jump Start # 1512

Luke 10:37 “And he said, ‘The one who showed mercy toward him.’ Then Jesus said to him, ‘Go and do the same.’”

  Go and do—that’s the central core to the N.T. principles and teachings. Christianity is a doing religion. It begins internally within us by becoming what God wants. But it doesn’t stop there. It spreads to the outside, by living those principles and becoming that light into the world.

Our verse today comes from the story of the good Samaritan. That’s what we call this parable. The Bible never uses that expression, but it is very fitting. The Samaritan was the hero of the story. He was good. A man was beaten and robbed and left on the side of the road. Now, one can spend a lot of time debating why that happened. Maybe he shouldn’t have been walking alone on those dangerous, curvy roads that lead from Jerusalem to Jericho. They were known to be the hiding places of desperados. It doesn’t matter whether the man was foolish, irresponsible, careless, of just plain dumb. The truth is he was robbed, hurt and left to die. No one deserves that. A priest passed by and did nothing. The priest saw him. The priest was probably heading home. His duty of serving in the temple was complete. He was off the clock. It wasn’t his problem nor his responsibility. The injured man could have been a trap. The man may have already been dead. Not only did the priest fail to do anything, he failed to tell anyone. Not my problem. One wonders if he had trouble going to sleep that night. Next came a Levite. He also worked in the temple. These men represent those who serve people and the Lord. He saw the injured man. He passed by on the other side. Nothing. Nothing said. Nothing done. No help sent. But the hero, our good Samaritan, felt compassion. He cared for the man. He took him to a place of safety and comfort. He followed up by promising to do more if it was necessary.

 

This story answers a question that someone asked Jesus. A person wanted to know about eternal life. Jesus asked him, “What is written in the law?” He responded by saying, ‘Love the Lord and love your neighbor.’ That was it. That was the correct answer. Do that and you will have eternal life. The man pushed the question. “Who is my neighbor?” Our story, the good Samaritan, answers that question. Your neighbor is more than the guy who lives across the street from you. Your neighbor is more than someone you know. Your neighbor is anyone that you can help. It may include someone that you disagree with. It may be someone that you have never met before. I dare say, if the roles were switched, and it was the Samaritan who was robbed and was laying injured, the man he helped would have passed by on the other side. Jews didn’t help Samaritans. If given the choice between helping a hurt animal or an injured Samaritan, most Jews would have helped the animal first. That was the feeling and the thinking back then. Your neighbor is even that kind of person, one that would not help you.

 

It is here that Jesus states, “Go and do the same.” Go and do. Don’t go and tell. Don’t go and share. Don’t go and teach. Go and do. It’s the doing part that has bothered me for a long time. I have found myself surrounded with Christians. I see myself always helping fellow Christians. They had questions, I found the answers for them. They had concerns, I was there for them. Faithful, loyal and dedicated, but surrounded by Christians. It was that Jew– Samaritan difference that bothered me. It was missing. The people in my life, the people I was helping, the people I was engaged with were all like me. We were all cut from the same cloth. Good was being done. I was smothered in work, God’s work, but this one dimension was missing. I have thought about it for a long, long time.

 

Last week, on our California trip, something special happened. The group that I was with, took a day and went to downtown L.A., skid row, to a shelter to help feed homeless people. We saw a side of L.A. that most never see. It wasn’t the beautiful mountains, the mansions, the glitzy Hollywood. Instead it was a forty block area of tents and tarps lining the sidewalks. People were walking about, like zombies. Debris and trash filled the streets. I have been to India, and this brought back scenes from there. In this wonderful shelter, in the middle of this hopeless zone is a haven for those who want to change. Help awaits them. There they house those who want to get help and get out. Food is given to them. Free clothing and personal items were given to them. Bibles were given to them. Many, stay on the outside of this shelter. They are not ready to leave the alcohol and drugs that have destroyed their lives. They do not want to commit to the rigid program. They will shuffle in for a meal but then they go back to the streets. What a scene it was for me. There were mothers with lots of little children. Wide eyed and scared looking, those sweet faces are dependent upon their mothers making the right choices. There were four waves of people we fed that day. The last group, the largest, were the men. Many were coming in from the streets. As they walked in, the room smelled of urine. Some hadn’t combed their hair in weeks. Their clothes were dirty as they were. We smiled. We tried to interact. We gave them a plate of food. Many said nothing. Some wanted more. A few thanked us.

 

My mind raced back to the scene from our passage today. I have easily dismissed the homeless as those who have chosen the consequences that comes from drugs and alcohol. Don’t drink and don’t do drugs and you won’t wind up there. That’s not the story for every one there. And in thinking this way, have I also joined the priest and the Levite, walking on the other side of the road? The scene from the Christmas Carol also crossed my mind. I had just recently watched it again. Ebenezer declares “are there not work houses” for the poor? Out of mind and out of sight and out of personal obligation has been my response. One day dishing out food in a mission house opened my eyes. Those folks, most a different race, miles and miles from where I live, are my neighbor. Why they are in that condition is not as important as they have needs and I can do something about that.

 

The good Samaritan wasn’t a church. He wasn’t an organization. Those are nice and neat ways to soothe our conscience. I’ll drop some money in the church plate or send a check to an organization and allow them to do all the work. The Samaritan was an individual. He is me. He is you. He didn’t have the backing of a foundation, a church or an organization. He simply did what he could do. He didn’t stop future people from being robbed and beaten. He didn’t chase down the thieves and bring them to justice. He simply helped where he could help. He helped a hurting man.

 

I left that shelter believing that what happened helped me much more than I helped them. Back home in my safe and secure Indiana, far away from those ratty tents in downtown L.A., the image has stayed with me. It has opened my eyes to look for neighbors who need me. It has moved me to want to do more in my area. It’s not just the homeless, it’s the discouraged, it’s the lost, it’s the neglected, it’s those with all kinds of needs. We can spend so much time with each other that we fail to see others. We can draw our circle so tight among us that we appear as a country club. Those on the inside enjoy the benefits, but those on the outside are ignored and excluded. I doubt that Jesus would approve of such thinking. We can do better. We must do better. Before anyone will listen to you, they must know that you care about them. Every person has a story. Every person has a journey. Listen. Engage. Talk. Do what you can.

 

I remember the story of a man walking along the beach. It was covered with starfish that came in with the tide. Now out in the sun, those starfish were struggling. The man was picking them up, one by one and tossing them back into the ocean. A person watching all this, and seeing the beach covered with those starfish, asked him, “Do you think you can make a difference?” The man tossed another starfish into the water and replied, “I just did to that one.” That’s what we must do. We can’t stop the tide nor change what has happened, but we can make a difference, at least to one.

 

Go and do the same—has a special meaning for me now.

 

Roger