God’s Love Calls Us To Humility
By Rev. Kelly Nieman Anderson
Given July 13, 2025 (Lectionary 16)
Friends, as we journey together this summer, some of our most devoted church nerds may notice that we are going to be spending a lot of time reflecting on the Gospel of Luke. In fact, throughout the summer and fall – 23 Sundays in a row – we join Luke’s description of Jesus’ life and ministry. Pastor Monte wisely explained two weeks ago that although Jesus is leading us to the cross, this journey with Jesus isn’t about how to die. Jesus is showing us how to live.
Luke’s Gospel does include great descriptions of Jesus’ birth, and death, and resurrection. But, Luke also includes detailed descriptions of Jesus’ LIFE – his miracles, his parables, and his daily interactions with others. In doing so, we get time to learn, just like Jesus first disciples, that by showing us how to live, Jesus shows us how to love.
Christian life – abundant life – a transformed life – is a life which is full of God’s love. Luke’s Gospel is designed to show us what God’s love looks like in our daily lives: God’s love calls us into community, God’s love leads us out to our neighbors, and God’s love transforms the world through us.
Throughout July, we’ll focus on what God’s love calls us to. If you look at the communion hymn for today, which Ricardo wrote for us, it outlines all of the themes from Luke for July: God’s love comforts us, like a mother hen. God’s love humbles us, like a merciful stranger. God’s love transforms us through faithful opportunities. God’s love invites us to beloved community.
Today, we remember that God’s love calls us to humility. Like a “plumb line” in Isaiah, God’s love is so pure that it shows us right from wrong. Like a merciful stranger in Luke, God’s love is so surprising that it cannot be contained in any legal descriptions. God’s goodness and mercy calls us to humbly receive love and humbly share love with others.
Because you are all such well-informed church folks, 😉 I have a sneaking suspicion that many of you were already familiar with today’s Gospel lesson; am I right?
Most of our English Bibles call this the “Parable of the Good Samaritan” but the “Living Bible” translation uses more contemporary terms to describe the characters. Personally, I find that these terms help me to better connect the parable to my own world. And when I am humble enough to recognize myself and my own neighbors in this scripture, God’s love illuminates my own faith journey.
Duke Divinity School Professor Timothy Tyson calls this scripture a great “social work” story by Jesus, for three specific reasons:
First, Jesus’ lesson shows that faith-based solutions have their limits. The church people both pass by the wounded man – for their priority is the people already at church, waiting for their arrival. While church people, like you and me, care deeply about the hurting people on the roads we walk, we aren’t always quite sure how or when, exactly, we can step in and do the most good.
Second, Jesus’ lesson points straight toward the geographic, economic, and racial implications of many of our social problems which, unfortunately, call for structural change as much as individual assistance, even today. This particular stranger helped one person’s recovery, but that didn’t stop the injustices from happening again in the future. Such structural problems and complex responses are still happening today.
Third, Jesus’ lesson points toward the need for institutions that are prepared to assist those in need. Because, while the unnamed stranger immediately provides compassion and care from his own resources, he then takes the victim to an institution that is prepared to assist the victim for a longer time, and he ensures that the institution has enough money to do its work effectively.
Immanuel’s commitment to be a “living sanctuary” is one way that this community is responding to those very important social-work based implications of this parable. Families Together, One Northside, Care for Real, and Faith Community Initiative each support very specific needs in our community – and by partnering with them, we are able to support more neighbors in more ways than any one well-meaning church, organization, or individual could do alone.
So, I could simply stop here, with the all-too-common summary of this “social work” morality tale: be nicer to your neighbor, support quality charities with your extra time and money, and forgive yourself when you can’t do it all. I’ve heard many sermons and Sunday school lessons like that, and I’ve probably even told a few myself.
But, Jesus wasn’t telling that story.
In Jesus’ lesson, you and I – we’re NOT the helping stranger (or Samaritan). We’re not the nice person handing out bandages and paying for hotel rooms.
In Jesus’ story, we’re the person lying half dead beside the road.
If it hasn’t happened to you yet – your own moment of desperation – it will. It might happen in a hospital or a cemetery… after a marriage fails or a career ends… perhaps because of a betrayal or a storm, a war, an injury, or an alarming diagnosis. Jesus is telling us a story about that all too common moment: when we need hope or rescue, comfort and companionship, and even though we have no idea who may help us, someone unexpected shows up and treats us better than we deserve.
In Jesus’ story, the compassionate stranger offered very specific and practical assistance: medicine, some clean clothes, a ride to a safe place to stay, and promise to keep helping. Your donations to groups like Care for Real are the modern equivalent of that … just without a donkey.
The seminar professor who called this a “good” social work lesson from Jesus also points out that it’s not a “great” social work lesson. The story of the merciful stranger was not intended to be about social work, because Jesus isn’t a social worker. Jesus is the savior of the world, and so this Gospel lesson is really about how God’s love changes lives. The greatest commandment is to love God and one another, and Jesus explains that transformative love requires both humility and mercy. God’s love comforts us when we are in need and challenges us when others are in need.
We also know this isn’t a social work story by Jesus because he’s not talking to a social worker. I bet, experienced church people, you remember to whom was Jesus directing this story? That’s right – an expert on Hebrew Scriptures.
Any expert on the Hebrew Scriptures should have been quite familiar with the prophet Amos, whom we also read today. In fact, most of Jesus’ original listeners would have already known that God intended for this world to be all about sharing love and justice, with mercy and compassion for all people now, not just getting to heaven later. This expert didknow that was the right answer, because he said that heaven is all about loving God and loving others. But knowing about God’s love and doing Godly and loving things is a lesson in humility we all need to hear again and again.
Sometimes, humbly sharing God’s love with others means ensuring healthy food, or a safe home, or a loving preschool for our neighbors. Sometimes, humbly receiving God’s love means rebuilding your life in all sorts of ways you never expected. Jesus’ command to “go and do likewise” isn’t about just doing more nice stuff for more people, or donating more money to more charities, or even just being nicer to ourselves. “Go and do likewise” is a daily practice of being so grateful for God’s love in our own lives that we intentionally seek out opportunities to share God’s love with others.
So, Jesus’ parable about the merciful stranger isn’t a story about social work. Like the rest of Jesus miracles and messages, connections and conversations, today’s story is about how God’s love changes us. God’s love calls us into relationship, God’s love leads us into a broken world, and God’s love renews the world through us.
God love calls us to a full and abundant life, right here and right now, whenever we humbly allow ourselves to recognize God’s presence in the face of all of our neighbors. Thanks for letting me join you on such a loving, transformative, faithful journey.
