Why Did They Pass By?

Than’s asking questions. Lots of questions. Most of his questions are not worth repeating––and not only because he repeats them more than enough times. But recently he asked a question that I can’t get out of my head: “Why did they pass by?”

It was bedtime and, as we do each evening before bed, we read a story from one of his “Bibles.” This night we were reading the story of the Good Samaritan from My First Book About Jesus by Walter Wangerin. (I recommend it.)

As we were reading the story, Than asked a question that caught me off guard: “Why did they pass by?”

This is a question worth asking because it helps us identify with the antagonists of the story. In the way the story is so often told, we put ourselves in the the Good Samaritan’s sandals. We identify with the guy who did the right thing. That’s too bad. In this story we’re supposed to identify with the bad guys––the guys who were the best of the “good guys.” We’re supposed to ask ourselves, “Why did those ‘good’ guys pass by?”

Jesus tells this story as an answer to a question: “Who is my neighbor?” To answer this question, Jesus tells the story of a guy robbed and beaten and left for dead. After telling it, Jesus asks a question, “Who was the neighbor?”

The answer: not the guys you would expect. In this story, the good-guys become the bad-guys while the bad-guy turns out to be the good-guy. “Who was the neighbor?” Jesus implied answer is prophetic: “NOT YOU!”

But this answer doesn’t leave us in a lurch. On the contrary, it draws us to Jesus. If we’re not the “Good Samaritan” then we must ask ourselves Than’s question: “Why do I pass by?”

Why do I pass by? In this question we are confronted with a choice: we can pass by or we can draw near. In passing by we snub our nose not only at the person on the side of the road, but also at King Jesus.
-The King offers his blessing to the poor, hungry, and mourning.
-The King is welcomed whenever someone “welcomes one of these little children” in his name.
-The King is served whenever “one of the least of the brothers and sisters” are served.

But the kingdoms of the world have ransacked the powerless––leaving them poor and hungry, ignored and vulnerable, too dirty to even deserve a second look. It’s tragic, but too often we think that our passports are issued by these kingdoms.
-We curse the poor and hungry. (After all, they got themselves into this mess.)
-We ignore, abuse, or slaughter our children. (Or pretend we didn’t see it happen.)
-While worshipping celebrities, we ignore the homeless or treat our co-workers in ways we would never treat Jesus.

But it is in these simple and ignored places that the Kingdom of God crushes the kingdoms of the world.
-He’s already at work among the poor, hungry, and mourning.
-He promises to be present when we’re with children.
-And we serve Jesus himself when we serve the most “unimportant” people.

So we are left with the choice: will we pass the guy robbed and beaten and left for dead? We can pretend that we didn’t see or buy into the lie that we don’t have time or money or skills, but if we choose to draw near and be servant, then we choose to join the King. His authority to reign, after all, is a result of the definitive act of service.

For those with eyes to see, Than’s question cuts to the heart, “How could I possibly pass by?”

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Father, without the eyes of Jesus we are blind to those on the side of the road. Without the boldness of Jesus, we are cowards––too pompous lower our nose or lift a finger. Without the forgiveness of Christ––through the sacrifice of the cross––we are unwilling to pay whatever cost for their well-being. Thank you for giving us eyes, courage, and grace. May we be faithful Kingdom-stewards of these good gifts. May we see your Kingdom as it breaks in at the sides of the road.