When Jesus Doesn't Finish the Story

What follows is a transcript of our guest speaker's message from our Sunday morning gathering. We share these messages on our blog for those who appreciate the opportunity to read the sermon again—whether for deeper reflection, personal study, or a quieter moment of prayer and introspection. As you read, we invite you to linger with the words, notice what resonates, and remain open to how God may be speaking to you through them.

by Rev. Dale Stewart

Hey Travis. And while I'm at it, good job Friday night too at the fair. You and Pat both.

Not necessarily religious music, but God likes it all so. I probably need to let you know in answer to the many times I was asked last week following the service, no my sermon is not going to be as much fun and it's sure not going to be as short as Bob was last week. You know, I've always loved stories.

There's just something about them that captures the imagination. You could let yourself become a part of the story and it just kind of grabs you and holds your attention. I guess part of that came from spending a lot of time out on the front porch with my grandfather who was a wonderful storyteller and had a lot of good stories to tell.

I suspect probably at least some of them true. But I love stories. That may be why I like so many of the things that Jesus said because so much of what he said was story.

And we kind of put a religious bent to it, calling them parables. But he was a great storyteller. Always able to make a point, sometimes obvious, sometimes just a little bit hidden.

But always something that had a way that made you ask. But you know, as much as I love Jesus' stories, I've got to say that I think some of them just end a little too early. Now that's not because I just want to hear him keep talking, although I would.

But you see, when he tells a story, usually about people, I'm left with more questions. Questions about what I think are pretty darn important things, and Jesus just doesn't deal with them. Now think about two of perhaps the best known.

Known by lots of people, even if they don't show up in church very often, at least they know the key parts of the story. In fact, they're so important we even give them names. Do you remember the story of the prodigal son? You probably remember it.

Self-centered kid, decides he wants to go out and live his high life now, takes his inheritance early, leaves home, screws up, comes back home asking to be, not to be reinstated, but just given a bed and a job. But his father makes such a big deal about him coming back, that big brother gets ticked off. And you know, I can understand some of the big brother watching as little brother gets the party.

But I'm left with some questions. Did big brother ever get over it? Or did he spend the whole rest of his life looking down at his nose at little brother shaking his head? I wonder, did he finally get fed up and decide, well if it's good enough for little brother, it's good enough for me, and take a little of his inheritance and go out to live a little wildlife too? I wonder, did little brother stay all thankful for everything that he'd gotten? Or did he get a little restless eventually and leave home again? And here's the big one. Now, little brother took what was supposed to be his inheritance, everything that he was supposed to be getting.

What happened when dad died and little brother is there? Does he expect now to get half of what dad's left? Half of which would have been big brother's? Time for the attorneys to straighten that one out. I just wonder. In my mind, those are important questions, and Jesus doesn't deal with any of that stuff.

And we're just left with no more than an example of a father's forgiveness that the big brother, and I guess I'm supposed to be happy about, he should have added in my mind a lot more to that story to finish it up. Oh, and how about the other one? Perhaps one of his most famous stories also gets its own name, the story of the Good Samaritan. Maybe it's the best known of Jesus' parables.

We're reminded of the basics of the story every place we look, all over the place. We even have Good Samaritan laws to try to protect people that help somebody. We have Good Samaritan hospitals found all over the country in major cities.

Well, you know the basics of the story, but let me remind you of parts of it. Then Jesus said, a man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho and fell into the hands of robbers who stripped him and beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. Now, by chance, a priest was going down the road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side.

Likewise, a Levite, and when he came to the place and saw the man, he passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, while traveling near him, and when he saw him, he was moved with pity, and he went to the man and bandaged his wounds, and having poured oil and wine on them, then he put him on his own animal and brought him to an inn and took care of him. And the next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper and said, take care of him, and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.

Jesus then asked, and which of these three do you think was a neighbor? Now, you know, that's good stuff. It's a good story. There's bad guys, there's gratuitous violence, there's a victim, there's good guys not acting good, and a bad guy acting great, becoming the hero of the story.

You could make a movie out of that. In fact, you probably have. But for me, Jesus just doesn't finish the story.

I've got a few important questions I'd like answered by Jesus before he stops talking. Maybe the priest and the Levi had some of these same questions, and that's what led them to do what they did, which is nothing. What happened to the man in the ditch? I don't mean after he got taken there to the inn, but did he get better? Did he get well? Did he succumb to his wounds? Did he have a sudden turn around? You see, my actions, our actions are often geared to results.

I need some kind of guarantee. Good act equals good result. I wonder, did the victim at least have enough sense to take a different road next time? Change his path a little, do something a little different, or did he just go right back on the same road again? Did he at least have enough sense to take some company with him rather than going out by himself? Did he learn to be careful? I guess I wonder, did he learn anything from his bad experience or not? Were there permanent injuries? Did he die from his injuries in spite of medical care, in spite of all the time and energy and money and concern that the Samaritan had put out? Impute stuff out of his own pocket and the guy dies anyway? To me, that's kind of an important question.

If so, did the man sue for damages for moving him without proper training? Because there wasn't any good Samaritan law back then. And here's another big one. So was all the money that the Samaritan spent the equivalent of two complete days of wages and the effort of the Samaritan just wasted? Really just wasted? All he did was just delay the inevitable.

You see, I want and I need investment with a return. Jesus admits you need that. Here's something else that Jesus doesn't talk about either.

He didn't talk about the other people's behavior. While the man was recuperating, did the innkeeper say, well okay to the Samaritan and take his money? Or did he tell him that his money, being a Samaritan, being somebody with different beliefs, different heritage, different culture, different lifestyle, different understanding, different behavior, did you tell him that his money was no good there? So no, the man couldn't stay. I don't know that.

It was all of those differences. Did the innkeeper even trust the Samaritan? Oh yeah, I paid for two days and said that he would come back. Am I going to believe that? This is a Samaritan.

I can't trust a Samaritan to come back and pay the rest of the bill. Or did he kick the man out early? Wasted effort by the Samaritan. I wonder, did the Samaritan's act change the belief system of the others in the story? Or was it just one moment in time and they went back to doing and believing what they always did? Did anybody in the story eventually say, maybe Samaritans aren't so bad a people at all? I wonder if the hurt man even tried to find the good Samaritan.

Did he even send him a thank you card? Any appreciation shown at all, or were the Samaritans simply left with an emptier pocket and no thank you? You know, there's lots of possibilities I wonder about, and Jesus' story gives me no answer to what are the long-term results of the Samaritan, or even the prodigal sons, or the prodigal father's decisions and their action. In my mind, that makes the story incomplete. Or maybe it isn't.

Maybe it isn't because Jesus said what he wanted to say, and his stories include the only things that to Jesus matter. Maybe love isn't ever about the response, or even the results. Maybe it's not about me.

Maybe it's about the receiver of the love. Just a simple but profound act of caring, the Samaritan putting another person ahead of himself. Sometimes, most times, it's not in that big of a way, but in everyday ways, and then Jesus stops talking.

My middle son, Damon, is an elder in his church down at Park Hill, and he was doing a comedian meditation last week that I heard on live stream, he was talking about that that week just before he had gone to a baseball game of the St. Joe Mustangs, and he found himself sitting next to a group of about seven, eight, ten kids, kind of elementary size, not dressed particularly well, and he kind of heard from some of the adults talking back and forth that these are kids that they occasionally picked up and took to places underprivileged kids and didn't get to go to many baseball games. But he said his attention was caught by one little boy who was just running all over the place. He was yelling at every piece of action on the field.

He was talking to people. He was talking to his own friends. He was back and forth and yelled and happy and laughed and screamed, and the main thing that he did, though, he took advantage of every free thing that was given out at the ballpark, and by the time that the game was almost over, the kid had two armfuls of stuff from pickets and balls and bobbleheads and food and everything you can imagine.

He'd collected it all, and towards the end of the game, what he did, the kid who really didn't have much at all and now had two armfuls, went to his friends and gave something to every single one of them so that nobody was left empty-handed, and Damon said when he'd finished that, he went over to Damon and handed him something too, and Damon said, you know what? I kept it. A little Nerf ball to sit on his dresser to remind him what little acts of kindness look like. I have a good friend that's—I have to go to lunch every once in a while, and several years ago, one of his favorite places was simply Siam down on Main Street, good food, not necessarily my favorite, but, you know, it was good food.

One of the first times we went in there to eat, the best thing that I liked, and he did too, on the menu was their cashew chicken with lots of pineapple. Now, this was back when this eating hand still looked like this hand. It always embarrassed me a little bit to eat with people because I didn't want—well, I didn't want to sling food on them, to be honest, but I don't think that's the reason that what happened happened, and I was holding my fork.

My friend picked up his spoon, which is kind of large, almost like a tablespoon, and looked at me, said, you know, I always have trouble with this, so I always use the spoon, and gave me permission quietly to put down my fork and eat more safely with my spoon as well. No guarantees, no promise of success, no appreciation returned. Just a simple act, I guess, a little like a Samaritan, and maybe Jesus' story really is just as simple as that.

I don't know. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe Jesus continues to finish the story, even now.

Just maybe. Amen.