A Parable By Numbers

Luke 10:25-37

 

Read Luke 10:25-29

  -that’s a good question—“Who is my neighbor?”

     --in other words, “Who is my responsibility?”

         ---we’ll come back to that in a moment

  -you’ve heard of paint-by-numbers?  —this is a parable-by-numbers

 

Seven—the number of weeks that have passed since this happened

 

Six-thousand, nine-hundred, thirty-five—the elevation, in feet, of Fort Lewis College in Durango, Colorado

 

Twenty-five—the number of students and adults from FBC Chilli who were serving at the Student Life Missions Camp

 

One-thousand, five-hundred—the attendance in worship that fateful Wednesday evening

 

Thirty-two—the approximate age of the guy whose stomach had had enough dorm food and had decided to launch a rather violent revolt

 

Sixty-four—the approximate area covered, in square feet, on the floor where the results of that revolution were spewed, splashed, and sprayed (and that is, by the way, a rather conservative estimate)

 

Forty-seven—the approximate number of people who saw, heard, and smelled that revolution...who became nauseated, and then gave serious consideration of starting their own, personal revolution

 

Five—the number of camp staffers who quickly cordoned off the area with bright yellow caution tape

 

One—the number of professionals who cleaned up the aftermath of the revolution

 

Twenty-three and fourteen—the agonizing amount of time, in minutes and seconds, that passed before the cleaning professional arrived on the scene

One-thousand, four-hundred, fifty-three—the number of students, adults, and camp staff who were oblivious to what was happening

 

Two—the number who criticized the camp staff for not doing more... and who then went on to question the staffers’ commitment, their maturity, and pretty much their love for Jesus

 

 

I’ve been able to forget the sight, sound, and smell...but I’ve not been

  able to shake the parallels between the events of that night and how

  the Church often responds to sinners, their sin, and its effects

    -I usually don’t draw analogies from vomit, but it does kinda’ sound

       like a parable—although, admittedly, a rather disgusting one

 

It begins with one guy who is struggling

  -it could be sin, could be disease, could be a series of life crises

     --he tries to hide it at first, to keep it to himself...but eventually the

          consequences make it impossible to keep quiet—he’s caught,

          fired, evicted, arrested, divorced, humiliated, on the front page,

          bankrupt, whatever—so that everyone in town knows the ugly

          truth...well, that’s when things get complicated...and interesting

 

1453 students, adults, and staff remain oblivious to what is going on

   -we continue singing...wrapped up in the moment...enveloped by

      our warm, cozy, Christian cocoon

  -it’s not necessarily that we don’t care about sinners

     --we just don’t know any

     --and because we insulate ourselves inside Baptist bowling

          leagues and church softball leagues and Christian motorcycle

          clubs...and because we try to patronize only Christian-owned

          businesses...and because we only invite other believers over

          for dinner or to watch the game or to take a walk in the park

            ---well, let’s just say that the odds aren’t real good that many

                 of us would even rub shoulders with an unbeliever—much

                 less build a meaningful friendship with one

  -and it’s not only sinners who tend to fade from our vision...we are

     pretty good about avoiding those in the Church who have “issues”

       --and our intentional blindness results in far too many people

           suffering alone

       --we’re busy—I know...we have our own problems—I know

  -but since we are the Church, the Body of Christ, Paul tells us in

     1 Corinthians 12 à If one part suffers, every part suffers with it...

     and in Romans 12 à Be devoted to one another in brotherly love.

     ...Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.

       --to do that, we must be aware...and involved...and willing to act

 

Of course there are 47 who do know exactly what’s going on

  -but we do nothing, either...perhaps because we are repulsed by the

     messiness of the whole situation—c’mon, I don’t want to get his

     vomit all over my new jeans...or perhaps we simply assume that

     it’s someone else’s job to take of it—after all, it’s not our

     responsibility to clean up all of the world’s vomit

      --sure, we may feel just a tad guilty...but we try not to think about

          sin and sinners...we’re too busy trying to keep our own little

          corner of the Church as sterile as possible

 

Then there are those 5 efficient super-staffers who are quick to whip

  out the caution tape

    -it’s a dramatic reminder that sin and its effects are evil...so we

       must stay away, stay far away...and be afraid, be very afraid

         --they, of course, do absolutely nothing to clean up the vomit...

             they just make sure they and we aren’t contaminated...but all

             the while this vile odor hangs over us like some cesspool fog

    -and we Baptists are good at doing the same—we tend to stick to

       the same, inward-focused programs

         --and we leave the outreach, evangelism, and missions to the

             professionals—it is, after all, what they get paid to do

         --and we abandon the homeless and the hungry...figuring it’s

             the responsibility of the government...and the liberal churches

             ...and the inner-city churches

         --the problem is that Jesus never tries to separate the two

             ---yes, He is primarily concerned with spiritual matters, but

                   never does He ignore anyone’s physical needs—the

                   paralyzed man in Mark 2 is the classic example of both

 

Fortunately, also on the scene that night are 2 adults from Chilli FBC 

 -and we are really good about pointing out the faults of the staff

    --what?  do they think they too good to clean up vomit?

    --I even said to the other adult, “Man if they would have given me a

        mop, I would have cleaned it up.”

  -don’t I sound so spiritual?  so humble?  so servant-like?

     --but I never left the comfort of my seat to do anything...and my

          words were meaningless

 

James 2:15-16 à  Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and

  daily food.  If one of you says to him, “Go, I wish you well; keep

  warm and well fed,” but does nothing about his physical needs, what

  good is it?

 

Of course, we thank God for the professional—he’s like a superhero

  -he swoops down with his latex gloves, his mop, his disinfectant, his

     industrial strength deodorizer...and within moments, there are no

     signs of the sickness whatsoever—it’s like it never happened

  -we can dump our “problem people” off on him...and erase our guilt

 

Funny, isn’t it?  All my analysis has left out the most important person

 

What about the guy who was sick?

  -here’s another number to add to our sick little story:  zero—that’s

      the number who actually help the poor guy

       --many are too grossed out even to think of doing something

       --most are too involved with church stuff even to notice him

       --some are too busy standing around waiting for the trained

           professional to show up

       --a few are trying to ignore their personal responsibility by acting

           like fault-finding Pharisees

       --and no one loves enough to risk enough to make any real

           difference to the one who is hurting

  -the problem is none of my critiques, none of my good intentions

     motivated me to do anything

       --here’s an unpleasant paraphrase of James 2 à  Suppose a

           brother or sister vomits.  If one of you says, “Good luck with

           that.  I hope you get to feeling better.”  What good is that?

 

South African photojournalist Kevin Carter won his profession’s

  highest award in 1994:  the Pulitzer Prize for Feature Photography

    -the photo depicted an emaciated Sudanese child crawling toward

      a feeding center—under the hard stare of a nearby vulture

   -naturally, people wanted to know what happened to the child

      --was Carter able to get him food?  medical attention? did he live?

Through hollow eyes and a pained voice, Kevin Carter admitted that,

  after spending about 20 minutes framing the photo, he had simply

  walked away. 

    -some will argue that Carter did enough—his work and the image

       powerfully captured the horror of the famine-stricken nation and

       drew international attention to the unthinkable suffering in Sudan

 

A few weeks after accepting the honor, however, the 33-year-old

  Pulitzer Prize winner committed suicide.

    -he simply couldn’t live with himself after shirking his responsibility

       --how can we?

 

Isn’t it ironic that a religious leader needs even to ask the question,

  “Who is my neighbor?  Who is my responsibility?”

 

Read Luke 10:30-37

 

Where is our love for the lost—real love—love that moves us to act?

  -when is the last time you shed tears for someone who is lost?

  -when have you devoted significant time to praying for the lost?

  -when is the last time you invited someone to church?

     --who are you going to invite to our revival services (and someone

         who is active in other church doesn’t count)?

  -when is the last time you had a spiritual conversation with someone

     who is not part of the church?

       --when is the last time you obeyed the prompting of the Holy

           Spirit and shared the gospel with someone?

 

Perhaps part of the problem is that we look at the lost and see

  nothing of redeeming value

    -we stereotype them as hopeless, as a lost cause...and frankly, we

       either see ourselves as better than they are, or we reckon they

       are so bad that Jesus can’t save them

          --God destroys both of those fallacies à  Read 1 Cor. 6:9-11

 

Most nights at our house, Carla and I have a certain ritual

  -as we clear the table after supper, each food is scrutinized

     --its fate—whether it is kept as leftovers or whether it meets the

         impellors of our In-Sink-er-ator—is determined by one simple

         question:  “Is this worth saving?”

The Church has been asking that same question about the lost:  “Is

  trying to reach them worth our time, our effort, our resources?

   -and from the throne of heaven, the Father is crying...and from the

      cross and from the empty tomb, the Son is crying...and from the

      depths of our hearts, the Holy Spirit is crying à  YES!  They are

      valuable enough to give all we have to try to reach.

 

Here’s the harsh reality:  whether or not we love the lost...whether or

  not we deem them worthy of our attention...whether or not we’ve

  been ignoring their needs...from the beginning of time itself, God

  Himself has loved them...and He has demonstrated His love...He

  has made them worthy of His attention and His sacrifice...and

  therefore they are worthy of ours

 

Bill Easum à  The problem with too many Christians is that they no longer see ministry as a life-and-death issue.

 

You might ask:  but how can we make that much of an impact?

  -gee whiz, this is Chillicothe—a great place to live, but hardly the

     center of the universe when it comes to our potential to initiate a

     worldwide spiritual revival

  -and we have lost the Simpsons to Alaska, the Russells to

     Columbia, the Joneses to Farmington...and the Breedens and

     the Henrys...not to mention all the saints who’ve gone home

  -and look at me—I don’t exactly have that flashy kinda’ style and

     draws a big crowd...so perhaps we should just close the doors

     now and save ourselves the embarrassment of dying a slow,

     agonizing death

 

We could—it’s just that the Bible says those excuses are ridiculous!

  -Acts 1:8 à  You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come

    upon you; and you shall be My witnesses...

      --is Jesus’ power limited to churches located in major,

          metropolitan areas?  of course not!

  -Great Commission begins with Jesus saying à  All authority in

     heaven and on earth has been given to Me.  Therefore go and

     make disciples of all the nations...and it ends with Jesus saying à 

     And surely I am with you always, even to the very end of the age.

       --is Jesus’ authority restricted to churches pastored by Rick

           Warren or Bill Hybels or Charles Stanley?

       --is His promise to be with us only good if we baptize more than

           100 each year?

  -toward the beginning of the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus says à

    You are the light of the world...let your light shine before men, that

    they may see you good deeds and praise you Father in heaven.

      --how much light are we shining?  what difference are we

          making?  if FBC disappeared tomorrow, would anyone outside

          these walls even notice?

 

In his classic book, Kon-Tiki:  Across the Pacific By Raft, Thor

  Hyerdohl chronicles his three-month journey with 5 others on a

  crude raft made of logs and rope

     -with little control of the raft and with no way to stop it, the 6 made

        made their way from South America to the South Pacific Islands

          --one thing they learned early on in their voyage is that

              anything dropped overboard was impossible to recover once

              it passed beyond the rear of the raft

     -two months into the trip, and thousands of miles from land,

        Herman Watzinger lost his footing and plunged into the Pacific

          --the raft, driven by strong easterly winds in heavy seas, moved

               ahead faster than he could swim

 

The others were horrified—they tried throwing him a life belt on a

  rope, but the wind blew it back at them

    -within a matter of seconds, Watzinger was gone...lost

       --without saying a word, Knute Haugland grabbed the life belt

           and dove into the water

             ---he swam to his friend and wrapped his arm around him

             ---he managed to hold onto the belt and an exhausted

                  Watzinger while the four men on the raft pulled them both

                  back on board

 

What would have happened if Haugland figured that Watzinger’s life

  wasn’t worth the effort or the risk?

 

What would have happened if Haugland rationalized that getting 5 out

  6 safely across the Pacific would itself be quite a feat, and he

  decided that losing one was an acceptable casualty?

 

 

What would have happened if Haugland concluded, “Watzinger’s not

  my responsibility.  It’s not my fault he fell—he’s to blame.  Plus,

  there are 4 other guys who are just standing around and watching.”

 

What would have happened if the 5 still on the raft formed a search

  and rescue committee...so they could lay out some parameters for

  any rescue attempts...so they could choose who would take which

  duties...so they could draw up some guidelines for actual rescue

  procedures—like what equipment would be used under certain

  wind and wave conditions...and then, of course, they had to develop

  a chain of command and a line of succession—but because they

  couldn’t agree who was in charge, they tabled everything until the

  next search and rescue committee meeting in December?

 

Carl Henry à  The gospel is good news only if it arrives in time.

  -we are running out of time

 

God speaks a sobering warning à  Read Ezekiel 33:1-6

  -we can’t pass the responsibility to someone else like a child’s game

     of hot potato

       --when God tells Ezekiel about the watchman’s duty, I wonder if

            Ezekiel is like, “You go, God.  You tell ‘im straight.  You put

            the fear of You into that watchman.”

       --we tend to try to pass off that responsibility to someone else,

            don’t we?

              ---the problem we run into is that God has other ideas

 

Read Ezekiel 33:7-10

 

There’s a cartoon of two turtles.  One of them says, "Sometimes I'd

  like to ask God why He allows poverty, famine, and injustice when

  He could do something about it.  I’d like to ask Him why He doesn’t

  do something about the millions upon millions of lost people?" 

 

The other turtle replies, "Yeah...I'm just afraid He might ask me the

  same question."