Midweek Lent, 2025 + Love Does No Wrong to a Neighbor +
Week 3: Your neighbor is more important than your convictions

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
Texts: Romans 14:7-19; Luke 10:25-37

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen

The priest and the Levite might have had theological or ritual excuses for not stopping.

If the man was dead, for example, they’d be unclean for service if they touched him. Maybe they objected to getting involved in messy things. Or they had things they needed to do. They had convictions, reasons, for not stopping.

And today Paul says, “who cares? Who cares? Don’t ever let anything get in the way of your love,” he says, “not your theology or convictions or practices.” And Jesus simply asks, “who acted as a neighbor?”

Imagine what the history of Christianity would look like if our passion as Church had been loving our neighbor, loving our siblings inside and outside the faith, even enemies, rather than fighting over doctrine or claiming individual salvation.

Maybe it matters what’s right and wrong in religious teachings or behaviors. But the last 2,000 years suggest we should have listened to what Jesus and Paul say is most important.

Paul understands our problem. It’s the same that faces his Roman friends.

Paul is exhorting against people in the community judging one another. Jewish Christians and Gentile Christians have profound disagreements with each other. There are arguments over Torah, over feast days, over kosher food, over drinking wine or abstaining. And it’s breaking up the congregations in Rome. People are losing their faith.

To this Paul says, “We do not live to ourselves and we do not die to ourselves. Whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord’s.” It’s not about your convictions or mine, Paul says. Our life of faith is about living in Christ as Christ in love.

In fact, Paul never rules on which point of view on feast days or alcohol or Torah is right. Their differing theologies and practices are valid, Paul says. But like the priest and the Levite, those convictions are keeping them from loving each other in Christ. And nothing can excuse that.

That’s the heart of it all. We live and die to Christ, not ourselves. We can’t have a relationship with God in Christ without having a relationship with everyone else Christ loves.

But relationships are hard. And not just when our convictions differ.

We talk about this here at Mount Olive when our neighbors who are in need come for help. The easy answer is to give them enough to make them go away. But if we’re really Christ, we’ll have to have a relationship with them. And some days the flow of need is pretty strong. Whether it’s challenging guests on Sunday morning or the crowds filling our west lounge on Tuesdays and Thursdays, it can seem overwhelming.

Because it means developing relationships. We can’t shut off our care once we know someone. Having relationships with people as people costs much more than just giving something to anonymous faces. We’re obligated, invested.

That’s likely another reason the first two walked by. It’s not just that they didn’t want to help the man in the ditch. They could see it wouldn’t be a quick fix. It would mean doing what the Samaritan did. It would cost time to stabilize him, it would take time to get him somewhere, and they’d have to pay for his care. They’d have to get to know him. It would start a relationship.

It’s easier to walk by on the other side. Once you’re in a relationship, you can’t do that anymore. For any reason.

That’s what the lawyer needs to learn.

“What do I have to do to inherit eternal life?” he asks Jesus. But faith in Christ has never been an individual thing. Jesus always called individuals into community. Christian faith is only lived in community with others, caring for others as Christ, receiving care from others as Christ. That’s eternal life here.

The lawyer knew the answer to his question was to love God and love neighbor. But he asked “who is my neighbor?” maybe hoping to limit the damage, limit the list of those he needed to care for.

But Jesus reversed the question, like Paul. He said the thing that matters is, who acted as a neighbor. We do not live to ourselves. Jesus says “Stop asking how to get right with God and get into that ditch and start a relationship. Be a neighbor.”

And that’s what God wants you and me to learn, so we can change.

Every time we hear Jesus say, “if you did it to the least of these, you did it to me,” we have a chance for the Spirit to change us. Every time Jesus asks, “who acted as a neighbor,” we have a chance to let the Spirit make us a neighbor, give us a relationship. Every time Paul says, “quit fighting about your convictions because you’re hurting your sister’s faith, your brother’s hope,” we have a chance to be open to the Spirit’s wisdom and change our priorities.

Everything else, Paul says, is nonsense. Worthless. Like a clanging gong, as he told the Corinthians. Even worse, it’s destructive and damaging, as we see so strongly in much of American Christianity today.

Nothing can separate you from the love of God in Christ Jesus. It’s time we lived the other truth, that nothing must stop us from loving God’s children in Christ Jesus. Nothing.

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen

We are called together as a congregation, a community that eventually we see is global in scope, to help each other walk God’s path of love and so bring life to the world.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Third Sunday in Lent, year C
Texts: Luke 13:1-9; Isaiah 55:1-9

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

Be careful not to read the Bible all by yourself.

Obviously, you can read it when you’re alone. We all do. Just don’t read it all by yourself, as if it’s only speaking to you. That can confuse you about God’s desires. Even leave you in despair.

Take Jesus’ ominous words today: “unless you repent, you will perish like they did.” What are you supposed to do with that? What repentance do I need to do to avoid perishing? Are we talking about actual death, Jesus? It’s frightening.

Or take Isaiah’s question. Isaiah invites you to walk God’s way and be fed by God’s words. They are rich food to you, Isaiah and the psalmist agree. So why do you seek things that can’t satisfy you? Isaiah asks. Why are you going astray? Less frightening than Jesus, but still, how do you walk God’s way if you’ve only struggled to do it so far?

But what if you don’t read the Bible all by yourself? You hear Jesus’ words and Isaiah’s invitation and remember you have this this family of God here on your side, walking with you. Jesus actually uses a plural pronoun here: “Unless you all repent, together, you will perish.” We still need to sort out the perish part. But at least you’re not alone in fear. We are called together to repent, to turn to God. We find God’s path Isaiah promises together. We find wisdom and courage together. We sense God’s Spirit together.

And in this community you’ll grow to understand just how many are with you.

As we listen to God together, we realize we aren’t hearing these words by ourselves as a congregation, either. We learn we belong to all God’s children, all who are created in God’s image, friend or enemy, family or stranger, near or far.

That’s different from Jesus’ questioners. They seem to want separation. They want to know if the Galilean pilgrims Pilate murdered in the Temple did something wrong, deserved it. Jesus decisively says no, they were no worse than any other Galileans. Same with those killed in a building collapse. Tragedy happens and people are hurt. Sometimes evil is done and people are hurt. It’s not a question of deserving.

So, together, now we understand: judgment isn’t needed in pain and suffering. Since we all belong to each other, to all God’s children across the globe, empathy and love and care are all that’s needed. The only pertinent question, ever, is: can we help? Can we love?

This is the way of God, the way of life, that Isaiah says is rich, filling food for you.

Jesus agrees. But it’s hard to tell that today. Truth is, Jesus should have workshopped his saying a little better, because it sounds like a mixed message. Those who suffer aren’t to blame but without repentance you’ll perish the same way?

But just separate the two. The first is true: no blame lands on those who suffer. But the second can also be true: if you – that is, all of us – don’t repent, turn to God, we’re on a path to death not a path to life.

Exactly what Isaiah says. We talk a lot about Christ’s path being difficult. Sacrificial living, self-giving love, being vulnerable and peacemaking in a violent world. It’s definitely hard. Challenging.

But what if you saw that path with Isaiah’s eyes? That walking as Christ is a way that gives you life and hope? That satisfies your deepest longing for wholeness, for love, for acceptance? If you’ve ever felt unsatisified with your life, with what your choices have led to, with anything in your experience, what if God’s way can satisfy you at your deepest places?

That’s the vision of God’s way we need to find together.

By ourselves – by yourself – it’s more challenging. But together with all God’s children, and with those of the past, witness after witness testifies to the life they found in God’s way. They declare with the psalmist that knowing God’s steadfast love is better than life itself. They find God’s way to be water in a dry and searing desert.

Because God’s way – the way of love of God and love of neighbor – is filled with joy and hope. When we love others, our hearts expand. We are blessed. We’re acting on the love of God we already know, but in that acting we are filled again by it.

Even the vulnerability and self-giving part is satisfying and filling. If we put up walls and strengthen our defenses against others we end up in a windowless tower where no light can reach us. But when we reach out and hold another we are held ourselves, and find hope and light and healing. We find God.

And God’s dream is that being filled, we will carry that same food into the world.

Like John the Baptist, Jesus connects our turning toward God with bearing fruit. Whatever’s going on with this poor fig tree, God will dig around it, fertilize it, encourage fruit that will bless the world. God’s Spirit is doing that gardening in you, nurturing, digging, encouraging. Bringing you to abundant fruit.

And since you’re not doing this all by yourself, the Spirit has help. We garden each other. Others help you root deeper in God’s love, help you face struggles, dry times. Why else do we come here week after week, longing to see each other, hoping for connection? Because in these connections we not only have a sign of God’s love, but God’s concrete action in each other to heal us and help us bear the rich food of God’s love into a world that’s starving to death.

My spiritual director, Lois, just told our group she did some remodeling.

She had grab bars installed in her bathrooms. You know, those smooth steel bars firmly anchored in the bathroom wall so you can hold on when you need support and help. (If you don’t need them, just wait a few years and you’ll understand.)

But our group realized together that grab bars are important for all of us. Not necessarily the physical ones. But that if I’m going to fall I can reach out and hold on to you and you will keep me up. You are my grab bars. We are grab bars for each other, for support and help when anyone needs it. We aren’t listening to God all by ourselves, struggling with Christ’s path all by ourselves, fearing the future and our role in it all by ourselves. And we hope to become grab bars for our neighbors and all who are suffering and in pain.

So hold on. Hold on. There’s a lot to be done, but you’re not all by yourself. Together the Spirit of God will bless us all to walk in this way of life and bear fruit not only for our community, but for the life of the world.

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen