I was rereading John Shelby Spong’s book Born of a Woman, to get ahead on planning the next Advent Bible study, and found the latest Westar 4th R magazine in my mailbox. The entire issue was devoted to memories of Jack Spong, whom many have credited with making it possible to return to church after being disillusioned by unbelievable teachings from their childhood. Then I watched Rev. Marlayna’s Sunday sermon about a need to engage in politics, that is, the business of the community. (I hereby admit skipping the service and watching the video later.)
Jack Spong made a name for himself by challenging religious interpretations (including Biblical passages) that created “us and them” divisions and subtly dehumanized the “other.” He would have been front and center cheering Rev. Marlayna’s presentation that both the Hebrew Bible (our Old Testament) and the story of Jesus celebrated good news to the poor, release to captives, sight to the blind, and freedom to the oppressed. How right to conclude that Jesus focused more on our earthly mission of community responsibility rather than earning individual access to a heavenly afterlife. (Or maybe taking care of others was the way to “earn” heaven.)
I whole-heartedly agree that it is our Christian duty to confront evil and stand with its victims. But sometimes evil is so sneaky that we tend to miss it. Last week the Bible study topic was the parable usually called “The Good Samaritan.” You know the story: A resident of Jewish Jerusalem takes a long walk through barren and dangerous hills down to Jerico on the west bank of the Jordan River. (Yes, think a modern reference.) Set upon by robbers, he is found, half-dead, by a Samaritan, an enemy who goes out of his way to care for the victim. In good Jesus fashion there are surprises: indifferent priest, indifferent Levite; the expected caring Jew turns out to be a hated Samaritan.
Today we celebrate the “Good Samaritan,” naming all sorts of admirable works after him.” But wait! We don’t talk about a “Good Canadian” or a “Good Franklinite” because such designation would imply that other Canadians or Franklinites were not so good. Calling a single Samaritan “good” is a way of asserting that, to the Jews of Jesus’ day, Samaritans in general were bad. They were “others” to be feared because they were not part of the favored tribe. Unfortunately, our scriptures and history are full of such veiled disparagements.
May we be vigilant against such hidden disrespect.
Lyn Pickhover, Trying to Be More Aware