Will You Risk Bearing Fruit?
Sermon
On our recent pilgrimage to the Holy Land, we drove through the Judean desert. Even in a coach on a good road it was a scary place. The terrain on either side of the road wasn't undulating smooth sand as far as the eye could see (as I'd always imagined desert to be), but was miles of hills which were so bare and barren that nothing grew there. These rocky hills were craggy and dangerous and stretched as far as the eye could see, an ideal place for guerilla warfare, for terrorists could easily disappear into the hills and never be found again.
It gave a new dimension to the story of the Good Samaritan, for I could see for the first time exactly why the priest and the Levite passed by on the other side. It was the only sensible option. It would be madness to stop in a place like that, for what appeared to be a dead body on the ground. Bodies on the ground in that desert would be a warning never to stop, but to get through there as quickly as possible, for if there were bodies around there were almost certainly robbers or terrorists of some sort. And anyone who was stupid enough to stop would probably be the next dead body.
So the Samaritan in Jesus' story would have been regarded by the listeners as quite mad, until right at the end of the story when Jesus suddenly poses his question, "Who was neighbour to the man who fell among thieves?" At that point the listeners would have been taken aback, because they suddenly had to think from a different perspective. And it was a perspective which threw them into confusion.
Jesus was suggesting that the really stupid thing to do was actually the right thing to do, and only one person, the despised Samaritan, was foolhardy enough to follow it. Jesus was also suggesting that the sensible option - getting out of there as quickly as possible - was the wrong option. The priest and the Levite (Levites were the priestly caste) took the sensible option, not realizing or not caring that it was the wrong option. So in one simple question Jesus turned the accepted wisdom of the world upside down. Sensible no longer equalled right, and foolish no longer equalled wrong.
It's difficult for us in rural Norfolk to picture any modern equivalent to that story. We can walk alone in our community at night without having very much to fear. We don't have "no-go" areas. We don't know what it is to be terrified of walking down the street because we're the wrong religion or the wrong colour. And we probably always go for the sensible option presuming it must also be the right option.
It takes a deepening of faith to begin to realize that what seems stupid to any sensible person may actually be the right option to take. St Paul, in his letter to the Corinthians, had quite a lot to say about the "foolishness of Christ" (1 Corinthians 1:18-25). The ultimate foolishness is to court and then to embrace crucifixion, just as Jesus did. Jesus told us we too should take up our cross and follow him, but few of us are willing to face real crucifixion in any sense.
In today's letter to the Colossians, St Paul praises the Colossians because the church at Colossae is bearing fruit. The growing of fruit, either individually or by a church, is often slow, and may not easily be noticed. But one of the features of a church which is bearing fruit is a growing willingness to take risks, a growing willingness to appear foolish for Christ's sake.
Perhaps one of the first steps towards that, is openness to different perspectives, even perspectives which on the surface seem utterly stupid.
For some churches which are really poor and struggling to pay their central dues, it might seem utterly stupid to raise money for charity. After all, charity is said to begin at home. But God's wisdom seems to dispute that, and churches which give away as much as they can, generally seem to manage somehow to pay their own dues.
For some churches which attract only a certain category of person, it might be very risky and really stupid to open their doors to all-comers, for they risk losing the congregation they already have. But God's wisdom seems to suggest that we should always reach out to others, even if that puts the life of our own church is at risk.
For some churches which spend a huge amount of energy in fund-raising, it might seem risky to forget all that in order to concentrate on prayer. And for some churches which concentrate on prayer but which seldom see any action, it might seem risky to go out into the world and serve other people.
There are many different perspectives, and many courses of action which on the surface seem risky and foolish, but God's wisdom seems to be that risky and foolish actions bear fruit. The Good Samaritan risked everything for a stranger in very suspicious circumstances, but I think he grew considerably more fruit from that venture than either the priest or the Levite.
So take a risk for God, if you want to discover yourself growing closer and closer to him as your life bears much fruit.
It gave a new dimension to the story of the Good Samaritan, for I could see for the first time exactly why the priest and the Levite passed by on the other side. It was the only sensible option. It would be madness to stop in a place like that, for what appeared to be a dead body on the ground. Bodies on the ground in that desert would be a warning never to stop, but to get through there as quickly as possible, for if there were bodies around there were almost certainly robbers or terrorists of some sort. And anyone who was stupid enough to stop would probably be the next dead body.
So the Samaritan in Jesus' story would have been regarded by the listeners as quite mad, until right at the end of the story when Jesus suddenly poses his question, "Who was neighbour to the man who fell among thieves?" At that point the listeners would have been taken aback, because they suddenly had to think from a different perspective. And it was a perspective which threw them into confusion.
Jesus was suggesting that the really stupid thing to do was actually the right thing to do, and only one person, the despised Samaritan, was foolhardy enough to follow it. Jesus was also suggesting that the sensible option - getting out of there as quickly as possible - was the wrong option. The priest and the Levite (Levites were the priestly caste) took the sensible option, not realizing or not caring that it was the wrong option. So in one simple question Jesus turned the accepted wisdom of the world upside down. Sensible no longer equalled right, and foolish no longer equalled wrong.
It's difficult for us in rural Norfolk to picture any modern equivalent to that story. We can walk alone in our community at night without having very much to fear. We don't have "no-go" areas. We don't know what it is to be terrified of walking down the street because we're the wrong religion or the wrong colour. And we probably always go for the sensible option presuming it must also be the right option.
It takes a deepening of faith to begin to realize that what seems stupid to any sensible person may actually be the right option to take. St Paul, in his letter to the Corinthians, had quite a lot to say about the "foolishness of Christ" (1 Corinthians 1:18-25). The ultimate foolishness is to court and then to embrace crucifixion, just as Jesus did. Jesus told us we too should take up our cross and follow him, but few of us are willing to face real crucifixion in any sense.
In today's letter to the Colossians, St Paul praises the Colossians because the church at Colossae is bearing fruit. The growing of fruit, either individually or by a church, is often slow, and may not easily be noticed. But one of the features of a church which is bearing fruit is a growing willingness to take risks, a growing willingness to appear foolish for Christ's sake.
Perhaps one of the first steps towards that, is openness to different perspectives, even perspectives which on the surface seem utterly stupid.
For some churches which are really poor and struggling to pay their central dues, it might seem utterly stupid to raise money for charity. After all, charity is said to begin at home. But God's wisdom seems to dispute that, and churches which give away as much as they can, generally seem to manage somehow to pay their own dues.
For some churches which attract only a certain category of person, it might be very risky and really stupid to open their doors to all-comers, for they risk losing the congregation they already have. But God's wisdom seems to suggest that we should always reach out to others, even if that puts the life of our own church is at risk.
For some churches which spend a huge amount of energy in fund-raising, it might seem risky to forget all that in order to concentrate on prayer. And for some churches which concentrate on prayer but which seldom see any action, it might seem risky to go out into the world and serve other people.
There are many different perspectives, and many courses of action which on the surface seem risky and foolish, but God's wisdom seems to be that risky and foolish actions bear fruit. The Good Samaritan risked everything for a stranger in very suspicious circumstances, but I think he grew considerably more fruit from that venture than either the priest or the Levite.
So take a risk for God, if you want to discover yourself growing closer and closer to him as your life bears much fruit.
